#anyways i sleep again now I got things to do and I got things to write and I got ocs to draw for a a thingy I'm writing

[grimmsbride]

▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ ⠀ NYCTOPHILLIAC ⠀ ⠀ 𑄼ల۫ thanos / reader

getting caught up in thanos’s web was a mistake, especially when it interfered with your sleep.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS unconsensual voyuerism (thanos & reader have sexual relations in her bed while everyone is asleep. even though they are asleep, i still put this warning because i know some people can get uncomfortable). ooc thanos (first time writing for him). oral sex (fem. receiving). porn no plot. mentions of past sexual relations. fingering. dirty talk. unrealistic expectations of quiet sex(?). overuse of pet names (senorita, mama, etc.) etc.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES please heed the warning above as i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable while reading this fic. with that said please enjoy and i apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

Despite different games being assigned each day, it all felt the same — as if you had just stepped inside this odd room, surrounded by strangers that held far too many similarities with you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you flinched or teared up as you watched and heard bullets tear people apart, how their strangled cries escaped in a last ditch effort to somehow convince the ruthless guards to spare them. You nearly screamed yourself when blood hit your cheek, tainting the already sweaty area — which you gingerly cleaned up the moment you got time to.

You somehow survived, in just the nick of time too. You wondered if you had any right to be happy for your victory, or you should be remorseful for all the lives lost today. You pondered it for a complete moment before deciding doing so was useless, and not impertinent to your current situation.

Getting out with enough money was of the upmost importance, nothing more and nothing less.

Which is why you were quick to settle into bed the moment the opportunity arose, slipping out of your socks and jacket, pulling the blanket up over yourself, and shutting your eyes. The world around you seemed to cease — aside from the old man’s snoring beside you — your body melting into the mattress. Sleep was the only comfort you could afford to cling to in this situation, anything else was an unnecessary distraction.

Including the one that stood infront of you, taking form as a purple-haired devil.

You never intended to get entangled with any of the other contestants. You could smile and cheer together, but it wasn’t a secret how quickly that relationship could turn sour. Mixing any type of deeper attachments just seemed like a bad idea.

But you fucked up horribly, one thing leading to another, with you in the arms of a man named Thanos, who said just the right words at the time.

You promised yourself that one time was it, you wouldn’t slip up again. You couldn’t afford to slip up anyway.

“Thanos.. go away.” You murmured, courteous of the other contestants around you. You wondered if the two of you were the only ones awake.

Through the dimmed room you could spot Thanos tilting his head, elbow pressing against your bed as he leaned closer.

“C’mon don’t be like that.. just checking on you.”

You rolled your eyes, growing more frustrated by the minute. You desperately wanted sleep- actually, you needed it. You refused to suffer the next morning, especially since your life was literally on the line. You adjusted your pillow, basically staring daggers into the man.

“I’m fine, now, go to your own bed—“

“And.. I’m also cold.”

You blinked rapidly, nearly slapping that stupid smile right off his face. You decided to turn your back to him, ignoring that soft sound of disapproval he released.

“Wear your jacket or something.. hell— steal your friend’s blanket. Just let me sleep.”

You chose to ignore the second sound he released, which seemed to be an unusually pitiful whine, mixed with an obnoxious groan. You wanted to tell him off for his volume, but decided not to— trying to seem as stern as possible so he could finally leave you alone.

But Thanos wasn’t the type to let up, something you quickly learned the moment you met him. Seeing as his fingers began to graze your blanket, rising closer just so his lips were hovering over your ear.

“But you’re right here.. can’t we share some warmth until morning? You wouldn’t want me to freeze, right?”

Thanos’s words were tempting, as usual. Whether you liked to admit it or not, he knew just what to say. Which is why you called him a devil, a sickening demon with that silver tongue.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to fight mind over matter. Not only was this bad for your sleep, you were also at risk for breaking some unknown rule. And if you got shot over cuddling, you would definitely haunt this place like a vengeful spirit.

But in the end you gave in, the reason fleeting at the moment. You could only focus on the fact he would hopefully shut up when he got what he wanted. So, wordlessly, you brought up the blanket behind you; hearing his small giddy voice as he climbed in with you.

At least the man was nice enough to allow most of the blanket to cover you, the rest of your exposed self covered by his larger frame. Thanos made quick work of wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him as his face found your neck.

“You have to leave before morning.”

Whether acknowledging you or not, the man just let out a hum, lips treading across your warm skin in the process. With a shiver you attempted to focus on sleep, admitting to yourself that the extra warmth was comforting. It also allowed you to truly relax, knowing your back was covered— literally.

Your hand found the back of his, fingers spreading along it as your eyes settled shut. You felt your self slipping in slowly, body growing heavier as that relaxation began to reach its peak.

Only to tumble down the moment you felt a thumb play at the waistband of your pants.

“Thanos..”

“Hm?”

You slowly turned your head, tight-lipped and squinting at him through the darkness. “Don’t fucking hm, me— what are you doing?”

The shit-eating grin that developed was telling, his thumb now slithering under your shirt and rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Not a thing.. yet.”

“We’re supposed to be sleeping!”

The man was quick to raise his free hand, placing a taunting finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others Señorita, that’ll be just plain rude.” The circles on your skin continued, Thanos closer as his lips brushed against your own yet didn’t fully touch.

“This will help you sleep better. Erasing alll your worries in the blink of an eye.” He breathed, eyes flicking low as if attempting to see beneath the blanket. Instead his hand did the seeing for him, fingers breaching your pants and underwear; tips stroking your soft cunt. He couldn’t help the little twitch of a smile the moment he felt you release a strangled breath, using two long fingers to spread you open to his hand.

And when your lips parted to speak, his own covered them; a gentle kiss that caused your mind to grow dizzy. You couldn’t help your legs spreading, hand wrapping around Thanos’s wrist the moment you felt him at your clit. He rolled his thumb so perfectly, applying delicious pressure to the little bud that caused you to see stars.

The moment you needed to breathe you regretted leaving his lips, seeing as you struggled to keep your voice down. He wasn’t even touching you much yet here you were, panting and releasing the softest moan. With a quick raise of your hand, you covered your mouth— teeth biting into the flesh the moment you felt a finger slowly sink into your wetness.

“Wish I could see..” The soft comment made you groan softly, hips rising the moment he began to piston his finger. Within moments a second was joining, scissoring you open and plunging deeper then your own fingers could. Your eyebrows knitted close, the pain of your bite washing away with each thrust of his digits.

“Thanos.. please..”

“Oh no.. keep your voice to yourself— I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.”

As usual his words held such a teasing tone, face moving back to your neck to kiss and bite gently. Even with his small request the man wasn’t making the situation any easier, especially when his thumb moved right back to your sensitive clit; rubbing those same dizzy inducing circles.

You felt way too good right now, your body practically shaking with how much you struggled to keep in. The thought of anyone waking up right now with you in this state — under the mercy of a certain purple-haired, tattooed rapper — was a thought you couldn’t even imagine without your heart pounding with anxiety.

The best thing to do would be to push him off before things progressed. You hadn’t a clue how far he wanted to take this, nor did you think it would end in time for the lights to cut on. And Thanos wasn’t a creep, he would listen to you the moment you expressed actual discomfort from the situation. But you weren’t, that pain you felt all day, that anguish; did truly wash away in seconds just from the flick of his fingers.

The thrusts against your velvety, soaked walls were perfect— your eyes rolling to find your skull the moment the ferocity increased. A metallic taste invaded your mouth from how bad you were biting yourself, but you didn’t care; it was a concern for morning [Name], not horny [Name] who was currently being cared for by the hottest contestant in this god forsaken place.

“Oh, all this clenching— you’re close aren’t you? Can barely get my fingers out.”

The smile in his speech was obvious, breath fanning against your skin as he urged you more and more; curling his fingers just right to hear your muffled sounds peak into a small squeal.

Your nails dragged across his tattooed hand, feeling it flex with each movement of his fingers. Your mind was growing cloudy, barely being able to register the words that were being pressed right against your ear.

“How about I get a taste, huh? Wanna come all in my mouth, mama.. it’ll be such an easy clean up.”

Before you could even think to speak Thanos was pulling his hand out from within you. You had little time to protest when you felt him grabbing your blanket, pulling it over his body as he crawled down your own. Your eyes slowly widened, realizing his words and actions; a new sheen of sweat finding your skin. Your nerves were on fine at this point, inner mind screaming to tell him to do anything else but that.

However, the moment you felt him pulling down your pants and his lips finding your pretty cunt, all hope was lost. The back of your head quickly found your pillow, hand going right back to your mouth to bite down even harsher than before. His tongue exited his mouth in a long stride, gliding across your wet center, and parting you easily.

Thanos created similar ministrations with the tip of his tongue like his thumb, circling your bud and slowly pulling it between his lips. There, he began to suck, the sound noisy but muffled by your blankets and other’s snoring.

Muffled gasps pushed against your skin, hips rising and legs closing around his head; bringing him even closer to you. The peak that was steadily approached seemed to pick up speed far too quickly, your mind turning to mush.

No more were you number so-so, victim to madmen and their sick games. No, you were simply [Name], moaning wantonly with little care for the environment around you.

Your other hand slithered under the blanket, finding his hair and tugging the soft tresses; feeling them stick between the gaps of your fingers. Shamelessly you rubbed against his face, desperate for that sweet release. Your pussy convulsed with each struggled breath you took, stars impeding your vision as you got closer and closer.

You felt it before you heard it, Thanos’s sweet urges right into your pussy. His wet words of make me a mess, pretty girl— don’t hold back on me now, causing you to tip over the line.

His mouth latched to you, drinking up your release as if you tasted better than any drug within his cross. It didn’t help he was practically praising your taste, a sloppy groan being delivered right into your pussy. Gingerly, Thanos licked you clean, assuring not a single drop was left.

Only when the man was fully satisfied did he let up, climbing up from the blanket and popping his head out to look down at you.

“See, it helped— you can barely keep your eyes open right now.”

You released a soft breath, a mix of a chuckle and a sigh as you stared up at the man. “You gonna let me sleep now?” You spoke softly, watching his wet lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Good night, [Name].”

[beesandwasps]

When I got to be a senior at St. Leon’s College, I was given my very own studio. It was a tiny room in a creaky old wooden shedlike building. Here I was to work on my senior project, a series of woodblock prints. I found, left behind by previous inhabitants, a dangerous electric percolator and a squawky old radio. I loved having a studio of my own, and spent most of my time there. I’d arrive at ten or eleven at night and stay till dawn, chiseling away at my woodblocks, swilling black coffee, and listening to the all-night hillbilly station. At sunrise I’d stroll to my room, where I would sleep until lunchtime. I had signed up only for classes that met in the afternoon, and I had time in the evening to socialize and study before retiring to my little workshop. The rest of the college would be sleeping when I was at work, and I had no distractions. I was getting a lot accomplished. It was an ideal routing, and I was happy. It was during this period that the President of the United States was assassinated. Today, documentaries and news retrospectives emphasize the shock and grief felt by the nation — but I also remember the fear and confusion that closely followed the event. At first it was unclear whether or not the assassination was part of a coup or insurrection. News reports were vague and fragmentary. There was speculation as to whether our country’s enemies might not take advantage of the confusion of the moment and attack us. I hovered near the radio and learned of the capture of Oswald and later of his murder before the news cameras. Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in as President. Harry S. Truman flew to Washington, and from the airport, broadcast a statement assuring the country that the orderly succession of government was intact. It was two or three days before the feeling of panic and uncertainty died down. And the whole time, I was listening — while carving away at woodblocks, because there was nothing else to do. I was realizing that events can become ugly with a terrifying suddenness — and that I, personally, had nothing to contribute in times like these. There were advisors in Southeast Asia. There was a wall in Berlin. We had nearly had a nuclear war over missiles in Cuba. People were being fire-hosed and police-dogged in the South. Now someone had knocked off the First Citizen of the Republican — and I was learning to do what? I was learning to make things for rich people to decorate their apartments with. I felt useless and stupid. As the assassination hysteria subsided, I continued to come to the studio, but it seemed to me an empty exercise. Worse, a mockery. In times like these, the last thing needed was a little more art. Then, one 2:00 A.M., a fellow student dropped in to see me. Jerry Schwartz was his name. I knew him by sight, but had never spoken with him. He had something to tell me. It seemed Schwartz had gone through a period of living the life of a swine. He had been in the habit of coming home drunk at approximately the same time every morning. And every morning, he’d see the light in my studio, and through the window, me, doing… he didn’t know what, but there I was doing it. He felt that here was at least one person doing something probably constructive — anyway, functioning. It somehow meant to him that there was hope for him too. In the parlance of Alcoholics Anonymous, the image of the light in my studio window had become his higher power, had kept him from despairing, motivated him to try to straighten out — and, as he told it, may have prevented his taking his own life. I thought he was probably exaggerating, but I couldn’t take the chance. Now I had to show up every night, and work on my woodcuts in order not to let down this formerly miserable Schwartz. I didn’t see Schwartz again, but I finished out the year and got my degree. And gradually I became convinced that the best way I could address the big evils of the big world would be to keep chipping away and something comparatively small.

— Daniel M. Pinkwater (from Chicago Days, Hoboken Nights)

[steveseddie]

helping hand

written for round one of @steddiebingo and the 12 days of Christmas mini-event | prompts: help & thigh fucking | rating: e | wc: 2,1k | no cw | tags: eddie lives, sharing a bed, hand jobs, thigh fucking, cuddling

read on ao3

According to Wayne, Eddie can sleep through anything.

It’s why he was late to school pretty much every day. That and the fact that he didn’t give a shit about it– but mostly because he always slept through his alarm clock.

But the thing is that to sleep through anything he needs to be asleep to begin with. And right now he can’t fall asleep because Steve hasn’t stopped tossing and turning in the past hour.

When Eddie comes close to falling asleep for what feels like the hundredth time only for Steve to twist around again, he can’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

Steve freezes as he’s fixing the blanket around him. “Um, did I wake you?” he asks in a tiny voice.

“I’d have to be asleep for you to wake me up, big boy.”

Running his hands down his face, Steve groans. “Shit, sorry, man.”

“‘S fine, Stevie.” He gives Steve a sidelong glance. Thanks to the moonlight filtering through the window he can see that he’s frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just– Can’t sleep.”

“I got that much, dude,” Eddie says with a snort. He hesitates, biting his lip nervously. “Um, is it because of me?”

It might’ve been Steve who suggested they shared his bed tonight, but maybe he changed his mind or maybe he only did it because he was trying to be polite and he expected Eddie to turn down the offer–

Steve frantically shakes his head. “No! No–”

Eddie isn’t convinced. “Are you sure? Because I can go–”

“No,” Steve says, more firmly this time. “Eddie, I promise, I’m just restless, s’all.”

Eddie relaxes. “Okay, yeah, I get that. It happens to me a lot, especially after– you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs in sympathy. “So what do you do? When it happens?”

“Uh–” Eddie hesitates, a little worried that answering truthfully might make sharing a bed a bit awkward. Oh fuck it, he thinks. It was Steve who asked. “I usually just– you know, jerk off.”

Steve inhales sharply. He lets out a tiny, “Oh.”

And there’s the awkwardness.

Before Eddie can offer to take the couch again, Steve asks, “Does that, um– does that work for you?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Oh, like a charm. Makes me sleep like a baby.”

“I could use some of that,” Steve sighs longingly.

Eddie agrees– he’s noticed the black smudges under Steve’s eyes. “Well, I could, uh– go to the bathroom for a while if you want to–”

Steve sputters. “I’m not gonna ask you to go to the bathroom so I can jerk off!”

“Fine, then you can go to the bathroom. I’ll cover my ears, I promise,” Eddie says, trying to act casual but the truth is that if Steve actually took him up on the offer, Eddie’s brain would melt out of his ears just from knowing Steve is jerking off in the next room.

“Jesus, how loud do you think I am, man?” Steve asks with an incredulous laugh.

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve given it much thought.” He has given it plenty of thought actually but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “Just trying to be helpful here, Stevie.”

“There’s something else you could do if you want to help,” Steve whispers after a short silence. He sounds strangely shy, nervous. He can’t possibly mean–

“Steve,” Eddie says, trying to keep his voice leveled. “Are you asking me to get you off?”

There’s a short moment where Steve doesn’t say anything and Eddie worries that he just made things even more awkward by assuming that’s what he meant, but before he can spiral he hears Steve’s soft reply. “Maybe.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters out loud though mostly to himself but Steve hears it anyway and lets out a panicked yelp.

“Christ, you know what? That was stupid.”

“Steve–”

But Steve ignores him, rolling on his side, away from Eddie, and as far as he can without falling off the bed. “Forget I said anything, you don’t have to–”

“I want to!” Eddie blurts out, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Uh, if– if it will help you.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that,” Steve says, still facing away from Eddie.

“I’m offering,” he says. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens to him and it definitely won’t be happening twice but he wants it– God, does he want it– so he moves closer, putting his hand on Steve’s waist, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s entire body shudders. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Please, Eddie.”

Oh, shit.

Just the thought of doing this is enough to make Eddie’s blood rush downward, making his dick half hard so he’s careful to keep his hips angled away from Steve’s back as he scoots closer to him, moving his hand from Steve’s waist to his lower stomach, feeling his skin erupt in goosebumps beneath his touch.

“I got you, Stevie,” he whispers, fingers moving down, playing with Steve’s happy trail. He’s already panting and Eddie still hasn’t even touched him.

Jesus fucking Christ, he needs to touch him.

He slides his hand lower until his knuckles bump against Steve’s cock over his boxers. “You’re already half hard, sweetheart? Is this what was actually keeping you up?”

Steve lets out a low moan. He didn’t ask Eddie for a running commentary, just a helping hand, but Eddie can’t stop himself. He’s a loud guy through and through, so unless Steve tells him to shut up, he’ll keep running his mouth. Steve seems to be into it anyway.

He lazily strokes Steve’s cock over his boxers to get him to full hardness. Fuck, he’s big, Eddie thinks. He can’t wait to feel Steve’s hot skin–

“Can I touch you?” Eddie whispers into his ear.

“Yes, yeah,” Steve agrees quickly.

So Eddie slips his hand inside Steve’s boxers, sighing happily when he wraps his fingers around his hard length.

The touch makes Steve throw his head back with a groan, almost smashing it against Eddie’s nose. Thankfully he doesn’t, even though not even a bloody nose would make Eddie give up the chance to get Steve off.

However he does prop himself up with the arm he isn’t using to touch Steve so his head rests against Eddie’s shoulder so as to not risk an injury– and because it allows him to peer over Steve’s shoulder and watch how his hand looks wrapped around his cock.

And God the sight gets Eddie to full hardness, making his mouth water.

He starts stroking him slowly, gathering the precum from the tip and smearing it down and around Steve’s cock but it’s not enough.

When he lets go entirely, Steve whines, hips thrusting forward, chasing after Eddie’s touch.

Eddie shushes him gently. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart. Here, spit,” he says, holding his hand close to Steve’s mouth. He does as he’s told without hesitation. Eddie can’t stop himself from kissing Steve’s nape. “Good boy.”

“Oh, G-god,” Steve moans brokenly. It trails off into a high-pitched whine when Eddie wraps his hand around him again, the slide of his hand smoother now from Steve’s spit.

He pumps him loosely. “Better?”

“Y–yeah,” Steve manages, panting now.

The elastic of his boxers makes Eddie’s movements a little clumsy but Steve fixes it by jerkily shoving them down. While doing that, his ass presses back against Eddie’s front and there’s no way for him to hide that he’s fully hard in his own boxers.

But instead of shoving Eddie away or calling him out on it, Steve groans and shuffles back until Eddie’s chest presses against his back and Eddie’s cock is nestled against Steve’s now naked ass.

“Fucking– fuck,” Eddie chokes out, momentarily stopping his hand so he can get his breathing over control.

“Eddie–” Steve whines, his hips twitching and fucking his cock into Eddie’s fist. It pushes his ass back against Eddie’s crotch, which does little to help Eddie focus.

“‘M here, baby,” Eddie whispers, his teeth clamped over his lip. Steve’s hips are still moving–

But he starts stroking him again, reminding himself that this is about Steve.

“Oh God, yes,” he moans loudly.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be loud,” Eddie mutters in awe.

Steve lets out a choked laugh. “I thought– I thought you didn’t give it much– oh fuck, much thought.”

“I fucking lied,” Eddie admits with a scoff.

“I– I lied too,” Steve says, his breath coming faster when Eddie tightens his grip. “You were the reason, fuck– the reason why I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking, oh God– thinking about how I wanted to be doing this instead.”

Something hot burns in Eddie’s stomach. “Well, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

“Can– can I ask for something else?” Steve says shyly despite him currently grinding his ass against Eddie in an obscene way.

“Anything.”

“Fuck my thighs?” He asks, twisting his neck so he can look at Eddie, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils blown wide.

Eddie is pretty sure his brain momentarily short circuits.

When he doesn’t reply right away, Steve blindly reaches behind him, his hand connecting with Eddie’s hip. He clumsily tugs on his boxers, trying to get them off.

It snaps Eddie out of it. “Yes, yeah, fucking– yeah,” he mutters, momentarily letting go of Steve so he can shove his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach.

He gives himself a few strokes– to take the edge off and to spread the precum along his length until his cock is wet and shiny.

“Come here,” Steve says and Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He shuffles closer, angling the head of his dick forward, lining it up so it slides between Steve’s thighs.

And when it does, they both moan loudly at the same time.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths then reaches for Steve’s cock. The inside of Steve’s thighs is so warm and soft and he knows he’s not gonna last long, but he’ll make sure to make Steve come.

He makes sure his grip is tighter this time, his movements faster. He times them with his own thrusts, his cock sliding wetly in and out Steve’s meaty thighs.

“You feel fucking perfect, Steve,” Eddie groans, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder blade. The praise makes Steve whimper, his cock pulsing in Eddie’s hand. “You gonna come, sweetheart?”

Breathing coming faster, Steve manages, “Yeah– yeah. So fuckin’ close.”

“Me too, baby,” he admits. It doesn’t surprise him, he’s currently experiencing the hottest moment of his entire existence.

The closer he gets, the more his movements turn clumsier, more desperate– desperate to come, to make Steve come.

It’s when Eddie gives Steve’s shoulder a playful little bite at the same time that he twists his hand on the upstroke that Steve’s back arches and he moans loud and shaky as his cock pulses hotly into his hand.

Steve’s noises as he comes and the way his thighs tighten around Eddie’s cock are enough to bring him over the edge after only a few more thrusts and he paints Steve’s legs with cum.

They lay like that for a few seconds, catching their breath. Eddie starts to drift off, feeling tired and floaty.

“So you think you can fall asleep now?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Steve lets out a soft little giggle. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Eddie grins triumphantly. “Happy to be of service, Your Majesty,” he says with a twist of his cum-covered hand.

Steve’s nose wrinkles as his eyes land on it, but there’s a trace of fond amusement in the look he throws at Eddie over his shoulder. He grabs a handful of tissues from his nightstand and uses them to clean Eddie’s hand and himself before they both shove their boxers back on and get back under the covers.

Eddie rolls to his side. “Before you fall asleep and because I know it’ll keep me up if I don’t ask– was that like, just a hookup or do you like, like me?” He grimaces, burying his face into a pillow. “God, I sound like a twelve year old.”

Steve laughs, but not unkindly. “I like you, Eddie,” he says, and when Eddie lifts his head to look at him, Steve leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Smiling, Eddie nods. That’s fine by him.

Steve turns around, facing away again and Eddie wraps his arm around him, burrowing his face into the back of his neck.

They’re both asleep in a matter of seconds.

[azurem]

hhhhhg inkmare with emotionless ink????

No drawing yet I'm afraid (working on an animatic currently...!) but the idea of emotionless Ink even without Inkmare is so interesting to me????

First of all, I'd assume Nightmare knows there's a state of "being" that Ink threatens to access whenever his paints dry off. A "blankness". But this kind of blankness would be particularly... morbid?? for them??? both as monsters and as beings that need not to sleep. Like. Ink usually doesn't sleep, so Nightmare wouldn't describe this state as Ink sleeping with his eyes open. Ink doesn't need to breathe, so seeing him just... being still? wouldn't ring any particular bells if not for how still and how colorless he looks.

I'd assume his first thought would be (to his horror) a state similar to death. Except that death doesn't look like that to monsters, Ink's not dust. (Also I wonder if blank Ink has any reflexes? Would his eyes follow moving figures?) maybe he's falling down? But Ink can't do that, only monsters drowning in hopelessness do that.

But then he'd go "oh yes, he's told me something about... something like this". And he, of course, would seek Ink's vials. They must be close, since Ink never takes his sash off. Are they empty? (How could Ink forget to refill them? Is there... Is the paint just... running out?) Are they full? (Is there a problem with the process of drinking it? Or, may it never be, has Ink just decided to drink them all together? What could that be, if not an act of—?) Are the vials just. Gone? Where's the sash? (Did someone steal it? Why didn't he search for help, to get back to the Doodlesphere and refill the blank of his chest? Was there something hindering him to get it?)

Anyways, the moment passes, shock is somewhat gone, silenced. Nightmare knows what to do (Ink has told him. Has he? Nightmare knows what the vials do. It makes sense for him to be able to piece it together, even if Ink never was very explicit on it). So he, of course, decides to give Ink back a piece of himself. (Ink gave him a blue vial for this purpose, after all. So even if the sash is gone he can still be recovered. Can he?) So he force feeds him paint as. Y'know. As one does. And Ink's himself again! But he's all sad and stuff cuz. Blue. Oh well. He can now get himself to the Doodlesphere.

But now Nightmare knows what Ink looks like when he's blank. And may he hate the sight as much as Ink does. Evil stuff

(i imagine that if ink got somehow stuck as an emotionless being, nightmare would actually struggle "giving him up" to the stars. Like, he knows theyd probably help him better than he could since theyre friends and they probably have magic paint somewhere cuz. Friendship idk. But also Ink is his, he just couldn't- give him up. What if he lowkey falls over and dies. What if hes wrong and they cant help him and ink's stuck there as a thing forever and theyre not with him and nightmares just failed to keep him alive and well and he cant do anything and the villagers maybe were right after all and he cant be trusted with guarding things and hes an abomination BUT HE SWEARS HE CAN SO HE COULD ALWAYS GO AND GET INK BACK AND EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY AND oh nvm inks back. Anyways)

[chaoticwriting]

YOU ARE MARRIED??!!

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Cass is not having a good time. From the Arkham breakout last week all the way to losing a bet with his siblings on who is going to attend the gala with Bruce. And now this annoying lady kept asking her about her preference in men or something. And Bruce can't help her since he is being occupied by those rich assholes about investment or stuff.

Vicky: So, Miss Wayne. Is it true that you have a secret boyfriend?

Cass: No.

Vicky: Then how about that pict-

Cass: I'm already married.

Vicky blue screened as Cass finished her sentence. Cass takes the chance and slips away from her before she starts barraging her with questions. Revealing that she is married may not be the smartest thing she has done but she is very annoyed at people who keep asking her about her secret significant other. If they want to ask, at least use the proper term.

Just as Cass reaches the hallway, she is scooped up by two strong arms and is carried away to the Batcave. Cass looks to her side to see Dick and Jason both holding one of her arms each and looking very pissed. Well, Dick looks very pissed. Jason looks like he is having fun. Cass doesn't struggle and just lets her brothers carry her to the Batcave to have the talk.

They put Cass on the couch and proceed to guard the exit of the cave on the off chance that she decides to escape. Not that she would because she and her husband have been thinking of breaking the news to their respective family for awhile now.

She waited for a few hours while playing on her phone. Her main phone. Not the one she used to contact her husband since this family has a lot of competent hackers. She knows that being married is like a big deal. But she doesn't expect it to be such a big deal.

When she says everyone is here, she means everyone. From all his close family all the way to Selina (Bruce's fiancee), Roy (Jason's boyfriend), Kori (Dick's wife), Kon (Tim's boyfriend), Jon (Damian's bff) and even Harley and Ivy is here. She is also pretty sure that Clark is listening from somewhere but it's not like she is trying to keep it a secret anymore, so the more people there are the less she needs to explain.

Harper: So what are we here again? I would rather be home to polish my new gun than in this cave.

Dick: Since everyone is here, I would like to apologize for calling all of you in such short notice.

A murmur ranging from 'it's fine' all the way to 'I want to sleep' sounded in the room.

Dick: Anyway, let's get to the main topic shall we. For starters, I would like to say that none of us wishes to control who you dated nor who you choose to be your partner.

Some more murmurs sounded in the room.

Dick: HOWEVER! We would really appreciate it if you wish to marry someone, at least notify one of us since being married is a big deal.

More murmurs sounded as all of them have a rough idea on what the topic going to be.

Dick: So, the person in question, would you like to explain yourself?

A spotlight lights up on top of Cass, directing all the people's attention to her. She doesn't even know there is a spotlight installed in the cave.Cass stands up and looks at the crowd. She replies, "No."

Everyone is stunned by her reply. They expect many types of replies but no is certainly not one of them.

Tim: Fuck you mean no?

Alfred: I would prefer this conversation to remain civil and proper please master Timothy. I would also like to express my extreme displeasure at the fact that I am not notified by your marriage Mistress Cassandra.

Cass goes still at Alfred's sentence. Okay, shit is really serious. As much as she loves messing with them, she would rather not have her food burnt on the inside. (No one knows how Alfred manages to do that.)

Cass: Ehem, I'm just messing with you. It is a long story but to make it short, my husband and I met when we were in Hong Kong. We met after he got roped in one of the gangs that I was busting. After we met and a little misunderstanding, he helped me to dismantle the underground drug labs across Hong Kong.

Tim: So he is also a vigilante?

Cass: Ex-vigilante. He has a daughter now so he is taking care of her.

Dick: You get pregnant?!! How? When?

Cass: I did not get pregnant. But she is technically my daughter.

Jason: Like how Lian is with me?

Cass: No. Biological daughter.

Kon: Umm, guys. I think Bruce needs to rest a little. His heart has been beating a little too fast for even him.

Dick and and Tim are closest to Bruce realizing that Bruce's face has been impossibly pale for quite a while now. They take him to an empty couch and let him lay there and rest for a while. Everyone's reactions range from amused to straight up concerned that Bruce's career as Batman might get cut short today.

It takes a while but as soon as Bruce is fine, they continue another round of questions and answers.

Bruce: How long have you been married?

Cass: Next week is our 3rd anniversary.

Duke: Wait. Didn't you plan to go to Hong Kong for some time next week? You even ask me to cover your patrol because you say you need to go somewhere.

Cass: I don't lie. I missed last year's anniversary since there was an Arkham breakout at the time.

Duke: Dude, still not cool. You are going on a date with your husband while I need to spend hours running on top of buildings around Gotham. So not fair.

Jason: Was the present you asked me to send last year also was for your husband?

Cass: Yes.

Jason: I've been your middle man all this time and I don't even know.

Barbara: I found it! This is the registration for marriage between Cassie Cain and Daniel Fenton. You used a fake name?

Cass: Yes. You will know otherwise.

Bruce: Why do you hide it?

Cass: I'm not sure all of you are gonna like him and vice versa.

Dick: Is he a bad person? I will kill him if he treats you badly.

Cass: No. He doesn't trust all of you at first.

Steph: And why is that?

Cass: He thinks the Justice League is working with the government. So by extension, all of you are associates of government to him.

Steph: Why is he running away from the government? Is he a criminal?

Barbara: No. He doesn't have any criminal records in his name. Except for the fact that he is practically nonexistent before he is 18, there is nothing wrong with him.

Tim: Is it a forged identity then?

Cass: No. The government wiped away his records.

Dick: What? Why?

Cass: I don't know.

Damian: I expect you to at least do a background check on someone before marrying them, Cain.

Dick: Did you get married with someone you barely know? Do you understand how dangerous that is? What if he just dipped you after you got married?

Cass: *Rolls her eyes* He isn't a bad person. I make sure of that at least. I know he is some sort of meta tho-

A green portal suddenly appears out of thin air making everyone be on guard except Cass. She expects Danny to come out of the portal to greet her but what comes out baffled her.

A young girl that looks a little like Cass riding on a big wolf comes out of the portal swiftly towards Cass. Everyone is just about to shoot their weapons when the girl's word shock them.

???:Mama!

Everyone: Mama?!!

[vodika-vibes]

A Choice Made

Summary: When Howzer comes to you in the middle of the night, panicked and frantic, you realize you must make a choice. Of course, the reality is that you made your choice years ago.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 764

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello and Happy New Year everyone! this is my first story of 2025, and sorry if it's not the greatest. I got a new keyboard for Christmas and it's a lot bigger than the one I was using. Anyway! I hope you all like it~

Your home is quiet again.

Howzer, your Howzer, is sleeping peacefully in the bed next to you. He looks peaceful, and you’re glad for it. When he showed up several hours ago, he had been filled with a frantic energy that, frankly, worried you.

But a hot dinner and a warm shower did wonders to settle him, at least enough that he could explain what sent him to you in such a rush.

And that is why you’re still awake. 

His words echo through your mind even now. 

“The Empire knows about you. They’ll use you as a weapon against me. We need to leave.”

You knew this was a possibility when you agreed to date him all those years ago. And you knew the threat to you would only increase when you agreed to marry him.

But things had been so peaceful, even with everything going on in the core, so you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay. You’ve always been good at lying to yourself.

You shift in the bed and focus your attention back on Howzer, your fingers gentle as they comb through his hair. He doesn’t even stir.

It’s a testament to just how stressed and tired he is. 

He stirs as your fingers fall to the scar on his cheek, and his pretty eyes flutter open, sleepiness vanishing in a heartbeat when he sees you sitting against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

And, despite the seriousness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, a smile lifts your lips. That’s your husband, always alert for any danger directed towards you. “Nothing,”

He sits up and shifts so that he’s leaning against the headboard as well, and then coaxes you into his arms. Something you’re only all too happy to do. You always feel safest when wrapped in his arms after all.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” 

“I was thinking.”

He pulls you so that you’re sitting on his lap, and one of his hands comes up to press against your cheek. Immediately you close your eyes and press your cheek against his hand, rubbing your cheek against his rough palm. 

“Are you considering staying here?” Howzer asks, his voice quiet.

“No, of course not.” You slide your arms around his neck, “My place, Howzer, is by your side. You know that.”

“I’m asking a lot from you, cyare.”

“You’re not asking anything that I won’t happily give.” You press your forehead against his, “I was thinking of the logistics of moving. About where to go and how to get there.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to handle everything.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to.”

“Yes. I do.”

He sounds so convinced of this, that you pull back to stare at him, “Howzer?”

“You…” he trails off, and then a small smile lifts his lips and he pulls you into a gentle kiss. “I love you, so much. You know that?”

You blink at him, “Well, I would hope so. You did marry me, after all.”

“I did. And it remains the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Howzer replies with a small smile, “And you…you’re the daughter of the Organa Family—”

“Distantly. I’m distantly related to the Organa family—” You remind him.

He ignores you, “And you came to Ryloth in the hopes to stop slavers from kidnapping the twi’leks and you set up a center to help former slaves adjust to being free,” Howzer trails off again, his expression soft as he looks at you, “You would have been well within your rights to tell me to go to hell when I asked you out. But you didn’t. You agreed. And kept agreeing.”

“You make it sound like it was a crazy thing,” You reply.

“It was a crazy thing. And it’s even crazier that you said yes when I asked you to marry me.” Howzer says with a grin, “But I’m asking you to abandon your life’s work. So let me take care of everything. Please.”

You sigh softly, “If you insist.”

“I do.” Howzer trails his lips down your face, “Assuming, of course, you choose to come with me.”

“You silly, silly man.” You shift on his lap so you’re straddling him, and press your hands against his cheeks, “I made my choice. Years ago. You’re my choice. No matter where you lead me.”

Howzer stares at you for a moment, and then he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Silly,” You reply against his lips, “I made that choice years ago too.”

@kimiheartblade

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[starlitsprout]

Shared Walls (Peter Parker x Reader) (I)

_________________________________________________

Summary:

Finding a roommate in New York City is like searching for water in the middle of the desert- or your case, a decent person who isn’t a creep and who can afford to pay rent on time. Just when you were about to call it quits, you stumbled upon a post created by Peter Parker. After doing some digging around, making sure this guy wasn’t an axe-swinging murderer, you find out that he’s a quiet, nerdy college student, who looks like he won’t chop you up to bits. You message him, and after some talking back and forth, you agree to be roommates.

At first, living with Peter Parker was great! Peter is polite, cleans up after himself, pays his half of the rent on time, and is usually too occupied with school or work to cause any drama. Perfect roommate right? But after a year and a half of living together,  things turn strange, when your “perfect” roommate turns up with strange mysterious bruises and gets home at odd hours of the night. What could he be up to? 

Word count: 2.5K

_________________________________________________

*THUD*

A muffled thud coming from the room next to yours jolts you awake, dragging you from your dreams. For a moment, you lay still, blinking into the darkness of your room, heart thumping. You try to take in some deep breaths in an attempt to lull yourself back to sleep and prevent a heart attack. You know it's probably just Peter, coming back late, for the fifth time this week, from what you guess is either work or another late-night study session with Ned and MJ. 

Just as you’re about to fall back to sleep, the sound of something–or someone–stumbling into furniture, followed by loud hushed cursing, wakes you right up again. You sit up in your bed, annoyed, and rub your eyes in frustration, your eyes then dart to the glowing red numbers of your alarm clock. 

3:25 AM.

You let out a loud sign, and run your hand through your hair. 

What on earth was Peter doing this time? 

Pushing back your covers, you sat up, maybe a bit too quickly as you felt a bit light-headed, or maybe that was just the sleep deprivation finally kicking in. No matter what the reason was, you stumble out of your room, towards Peter’s. 

As you approach his room, you hear the sounds of heavy footsteps, the scrape of something hard against the floor, and�� a quiet groan?

Curiosity and concern wash away your sleepiness as you raise your hand to knock on the door. You silently pray to yourself that you’re not about to interrupt your roommate during a…private moment, but being the slightly noisy and curious person that you are you decide to stay true to yourself and knock anyway.

Knocking on his door softly, you whisper, “Peter? Is everything alright?”

The shuffling abruptly stops, and for a few moments, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your breathing. 

Then Peter’s voice cut through the silence, high-pitched and filled with anxiety. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m Fine. Totally Fine! No reason to not be! I uh… just dropped something! Sorry!” 

You furrow your eyebrows, hand hovering over the doorknob. “At three in the morning?”

Another pause fills the air, and then Peter responds, “You know me! Night Owl! Haha!”

On any other night, you would've just brushed off Peter’s weird behavior, but after five nights of waking up at 3 in the morning due to whatever the hell your roommate was up to that night, finally got to you. This time you were going to figure out what was going on, and seeing that you weren’t going to get a straight answer without asking him face-to-face, you crack the door open. With your mind racing with paranoid thoughts, that only you could come up with in the dead of night. Maybe Peter got drunk and wandered in clumsily or maybe your thoughts of him secretly being a drug dealer were true and he was getting high off his own suppl–

And then you saw him.

With the door now fully open, Peter was sitting in his desk chair, with only the dim light of his small desk lamp to illuminate his figure. His face was bruised and streaked with dirt and blood and his lip was swollen with a cut at the corner of his mouth. His appearance just screamed, “Hey I just got beaten up by an angry mob” and “I’m definitely not okay no matter what I say!” It was overall concerning.

But what was most concerning, was that even with the cuts and bruises, he was… kind of hot.

You blinked, trying to focus, but either you were losing your mind over the fact it was way past your bedtime or there was something truly captivating about the way his messy brown curls framed his face, or how cute he looked in his oversized longsleeved t-shirt decorated with the world’s most cringy science pun, which was so Peter. Along with some dark gray sweatpants that seemed to fit him just right. 

Peter shifted anxiously under your gaze, with his shirt shifting just enough for you to see the fabric underneath– a smooth, almost sleek blue and red material that didn’t look like it belonged with the rest of his outfit. 

“Uh… Peter? Are you okay?” Your voice came out a little too loud in comparison to the stillness of the night. Peter looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, scratching the back of his neck with one hand, and tugging his shirt down with the other. 

“Oh, hey I’m good. Sorry for waking you up Y/N. I didn’t mean to,” He said quickly, flashing a sheepish smile that was a little too strained to convince you that he was alright. 

You stepped further into the room, eyes still locked onto Peter’s disheveled appearance. Your brain, which was still waking up, was trying to process the scene around you. But you just couldn’t make sense of it. Why was Peter up this late? What was he wearing? You didn’t know. 

What you did know was that you were a little too aware of how good your roommate was looking at the moment. 

You mentally slapped yourself. Focus Y/N, focus. This was Peter! You're kind of awkward, socially inept, and constantly rambling on when he’s a nervous roommate! Not one of those guys from the soap operas you're always watching when you should be studying for your nursing exams.  

But as you stood there, trying to ignore how the dim light casted a soft glow over his bruised face, or how his jawline was looking especially sharp, you subconsciously closed the distance between the two of you, standing in front of him, slightly grazing your right hand against his face, barely touching his bruised skin. 

You can feel Peter staring at you in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from analyzing his beaten-up features. “Peter,” your gaze shifts as you meet his eyes, “what happened to you?”

He winces slightly as you accidentally make too much contact with his bruised face, causing you to draw your hand quickly and whisper a small “Sorry.” 

Once again Peter attempts to put on a convincing smile. “It’s alright, a-and I’m fine really, just got a little banged up. It’s nothing, just might need a bandage or two,” e said as if those words could convince you he wasn’t in pain. 

You frown at him and quickly walk out leaving Peter in confusion, staring at where you once stood in his room. Only moments later you return with a first-aid kit and start tending to his wounds, his softy groans in pain as the ointment touches his cuts. “You don’t have to do this Y/N, I’ll be okay. You need to go back to sleep, I’ve already kept you up,” he tells you.

You ignore his wishes and continue patching him up as best as possible. “I just need a bandage or two my ass. You look like you got hit by a bus. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep now, not when I know you’re hurt.” Peter smiles at you and quietly thanks you as you continue your work, the time now being 4 in the morning. 

As you work, carefully wiping off dirt and applying antiseptic to his cuts, Peter winces with every touch, although he tries to hide behind it with small smiles and a bit of small talk. His eyes are glassy, not from the pain, but from something deeper–something that he’s not sharing with you. As you’re about to question him once again about the situation, you notice blood starting to leak and spread through his shirt and whatever weird compression shirt he’s wearing beneath it. “Woah, Peter. This is worse than I thought your chest is bleeding, I’m going to need you to lift your shirt so I can see what’s going on.” You say as your face reddens a bit at the thought of seeing your roommate of almost two years possibly shirtless. 

He hesitates for a moment, and you watch him, studying his movements. The way he shifts once again in his seat, avoiding your gaze. He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. 

“Okay,” he whispers nervously. “But… could you turn around for a sec, I’ll.. I’ll take off my shirt, but I- just please,” he says quickly.

You nod your head quickly, turning your back to him. Your heartbeat quickens for reasons you rather not explore, you know you shouldn’t lose focus again. You just need to help Peter. 

You hear the soft shuffle of fabric behind you, followed by the faint sound of something–maybe his shirt— being pulled off and falling to the ground. The air shifts as he moves, and you mentally slap yourself as you realize how awkward this situation must be for him. Your future career is going to be as a nurse, and yet you can’t help but feel a bit shy and nervous.

But you have no choice but to push your emotions away, you know you need to help out no matter how red your face seems to get. 

You hear him settle back into the chair, and you take that as your cue to turn around.

Once again you are in shock.

Peter is sitting there, upper body exposed, with his sweat pants loosely hanging off his hips, and his chest exposed with more cuts and bruises than you expected along with his–

Wait. Abs?

You blink, not quite believing your eyes. Since when did Peter Parker, the Star Wars nerd, and the “brain over brawn” type guy have abs like this? Tonight is just full of surprises.

The muscles adoring his torse are defined in a way that is, to be completely honest mouth-watering. You try to shake it off, but the sight is almost overwhelming. He’s got this toned, sculpted six-pack that you’re pretty sure wasn’t there the last time you saw him shirtless, which, granted, has been never. 

FOCUS! You mentally yell at yourself. Remember Peter is your roommate, your friend, the guy who rants to you for hours about what he does in his chem labs every Friday. He’s injured, and you’re here to patch him up–- not ogle at how good he looks. 

Trying to keep your composure, you start to grab items out of your first-aid kit and get back to work patching him up. Peter was clearly aware of your lingering gaze but chose not to say anything about it, instead choosing to fidget around in his chair.

As you finally wrap up, you give him one last look over, checking for anything else that needs attention. His eyes meet yours, for what feels like the millionth time this night, but for a moment, there’s an intensity lingering within the silence. You almost feel like you should try to say something again, but you choose not to, knowing that Peter will give you the run-around…again.

Peter swallows hard, breaking the tension. “Thanks for this Y/N. Seriously. I…I owe you one.”

You give him a soft smile in return, still trying to push down the bizarre mix of emotions roiling inside you. “Don’t mention it,” you tell him, as you quickly pack up your stuff. “You should be all good, just don’t do anything too intensive or straining, doctor’s orders” you lightheartedly joke as you get ready to leave his room. 

As you begin to walk toward the door, you hear Peter’s quiet, almost hesitant voice behind you.”

“Y/N..”

He slowly and carefully stands up from his chair, carefully to not ruin the work you did caring for his wounds, walking up to you. You turn to look at him, your hand on the doorknob.

“I…,” he continues, his voice shaky. “I don’t know how to thank you for this, for everything. I mean, I woke you up and you still helped me. You are a wonderful roommate and an even better friend, and I wish I could explain to you what’s going on–,” he pauses letting out a deep breath. 

You stand there, unsure how to handle the growing tension. But the raw sincerity in his words keeps you there, standing at the door. Peter’s eyes are wide with gratitude, his chest still bare, the remnants of your first aid work still visible along his skin. 

“I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this. It’s..It’s not what I wanted, and it's not what you signed up for as my roommate. I promise I’ll be more careful next time, that way you won’t have to fix me up again.” His gaze on you is intense, searching like there’s something else he wants to say. You know there's more weight to his words, he not just apologizing for interrupting your much-needed sleep with his late-night antics, he’s apologizing for not being the friend he knows he should be.

Something inside you shifts, as you let go of the doorknob and take a step closer to him. You’ve spent the last year and a half sharing this space, sharing your life with Peter, to late-night study sessions, countless Star Wars marathons, and game nights with MJ and Ned. You’ve known from the beginning that Peter kept a lot of aspects of his life to himself, telling you enough so you could get to know him but never enough to let you in. Through all of that, you’d never imagined this side of Peter. 

“Peter…I need you to be safe. I get that you don’t want to tell me where you go every night and I guess I can live with that but I need you to be safe,” you say as you fiddle with your hands. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again…I care about you too much.”

The room seems to get quiet, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, realizing what you just said and if you should have said it at all. 

Peter looks at you for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then almost as if the tension finally snapped, he reaches out for you. 

Without any time to react, Peter grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him. Before you can get any words out of your mouth, Peter captures your lips with his own. 

The kiss is soft, but needy at the same time as if Peter is trying to convey everything he was hesitant to say in your conversation. His hands move gently towards your waist, and you instinctively respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. 

It was a shock and unplanned, but at the same time, it felt right as if it was the most natural thing in the world. When you both finally pull away, breathless, you’re left staring at each other lost in a daze. 

Peter’s face flushed red, “I’m sorry, I just–I needed to show you how much I appreciate you and care about you. I understand that it was uncalled for and if I made you uncomfortabl–.” He rambles on but you quickly cut him off. 

“It's okay,” you whisper, feeling a warmth spread through you. 

You both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying the sweetness of the moment. There’s definitely no going back now. 

_________________________________________________

( Authors Note: Yay!!! That's the end of the first part!! I hope y’all enjoy my first fic, it's my first time writing in five years, so please forgive me for my rusty skills, I’m still getting back into the groove of writing. I’m hoping to make this fic a series, where Peter, Ned, and MJ get to go to MIT and everyone is happy and alive. I just wanted to make something that isn’t too intense for my first fic back and a bit easier for me to maintain! Anyway hope you enjoyed!)

[tiedyeflannels]

Never Let You Go

Park Jimin x reader

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 -- Masterlist

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre: Angst to Fluff

A/N: What's up! I finally got around to writing this fic again after a few months. I figured that if I didn't write this now, I probably would never finish and I really wanted to write this since forever ago. Anyway, here's part one and I'll post part two whenever I'm done, which could be in an hour or a couple days *shrug*. Enjoy tho!

“I can’t believe you said that,” Jimin yelled as we walked into the living room.

“Are you seriously getting upset with the fact that I had told you that I thought you looked a little unwell at the shoot today,” I calmly asked, following him into the room.

“Yes! Especially when you just had to let the entire staff know about it too!”

“Anybody would’ve brought it up. Jimin, I was just concerned about you,” I tried to reason, but he spun around and looked at me with a furious face.

“You were concerned!? Why don’t you worry about yourself for a change?”

“How can I, when I know you haven’t been sleeping or eating well recently?”

The tension was starting to build in the room the longer we stood there in silence. Jimin was silently fuming and anyone could see it on his face. I was trying my best to stay calm and defuse the situation, but anything I said seemed to make him angrier until…

“Well, maybe you should worry about not being in this relationship anymore.”

“What…” I quietly asked as all the blood rushed out of my face in shock.

“Guys, maybe we should calm down,” Namjoon said calmly.

“No, I'm done!”

“Chim… you don’t actually mean that,” I tried as tears started welling up in my eyes.

“Yeah. I do,” he huffed before storming out of the living room, toward his room.

The tears slowly escaped from my eyes as I watched him angrily close the door behind him.

“Oh, Y/n…” I looked to the side and finally realized that the other members had been sitting in the living room, listening to our fight.

“He didn’t mean that,” Namjoon tried to reason as he hugged me from the side and rubbed my arm soothingly.

“Yeah, you know how he can get when he’s mad. Just give him some time to cool down,” Tae spoke up from the couch.

I sadly nodded as Namjoon gave me a squeeze before guiding me to the couch and letting me join them in whatever they were watching.

~

Sadly, it seemed like he didn’t calm down. I tried knocking on his door over the next week when I went over so we could talk, but he told me to leave or just simply wasn’t there. I tried texting him, asking if we could talk about the fight, but they always went unread. 

The worst thing about it was that I was supposed to leave to work in the States for a couple years, next week. I did my best to get him to talk, I even had some of the members try to talk to him about the fight so I could see where he was, but he dismissed the topic as soon as they brought it up. 

Which brought us to today…

“Please let us know when you land, okay,” Jungkook said as he gave me a hug.

We were standing in the driveway of their house because they wanted to see me before I left for the airport. Well… all except one.

My eyes were darting around the group and the windows to see if I could spot a glimpse of Jimin before I left, but he was nowhere to be found.

Namjoon walked up to me, “We all told him that he should, at least, say bye before you left…”

“He’s an idiot,” Yoongi chimed in, making me chuckle at his bluntness before continuing, “We’ll make sure to tear him a new one when we see him.”

The guys nodded in agreement, making me smile at how much they cared about me.

“It’s fine! Though if you could convince him to talk with me about this situation that we’re in, I would really appreciate it,” I said, looking around the group with a small smile.

“We will definitely do that,” Hobi said with his reassuring smile.

“...After we tear him a new one,” Tae added in, completely serious. 

I smiled and nodded, “Thank you. I’ll try to reach him as soon as I get situated in my new place, but I won’t expect him to reply.”

“We’re right behind you,” Namjoon assured.

I sighed, “Thank you and good luck in the military! I’m sorry I won’t be around to see you guys off individually. I really wanted to.” 

Jin waved me off, “No worries! We’ll see you when you come back, just be safe.”

He opened his arms and I happily slotted myself between them, giving him the last hug for a while. Some of the others cooed and gathered around for a group hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, guys.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” they said and kept hugging for a bit before stepping back to let me go.

I sighed, “Stay safe and healthy. I’ll be back to pick you up when you’re done.”

They nodded before I sighed one more time and started slowly backing away from them and to the car waiting for me.

“Love you guys! Take care while I’m gone!”

“Love you too!”

~

Once I landed I texted the group to let them know that I got there safely and that they should take care of themselves while I’m gone. I took a cab over to the apartment I would be staying in for the next two years that I was going to be here and started to get situated as soon as I stepped inside.

After a bit of unpacking, I took out my phone once I took a break to lay on my bed and opened Jimin’s contact.

Sighing, I typed out, “Hey, I made it safely to my new place! It’s really nice here, but it’s nothing like being home. I would love it if we could talk soon. I miss you a lot… <3”.

I turned the phone off and let it drop to my side, hoping that he would come around soon.

Part 2

[florbexter]

Anything with FadelStyle ❤️

a study in patience [AO3]

Style found Fadel in the kitchen. Bent over the worktable, his hands pressed onto the shiny surface. If Style didn’t know him better, he would think he was sleeping while standing.

Style observed him for a moment. The vibes were off, but not in a dangerous way. More in an ‘I can’t believe this is my life' way. He quickly searched through his memories, but he hadn’t done anything the last couple of days that would make Fadel behave like that.

Had he gotten a one-star Google review?

“What’s up?”, he asked and stole a pickle.

Fadel moved slowly. Just his head. The frown between his eyes was there again and Style knew it was the Bison frown. That man had a wrinkle for every one of his loved ones. Not that Style would count himself as one of them. Not yet anyway. But he worked hard for his very own line on Fadel’s face.

“Just,” Fadel started and then straightened and looked up. Was he thinking about not telling Style? Style leaned his back onto the worktable. Now he was curious.

Wait. If it was about Bison and Fadel looked like he had been forced to eat a lemon that could only mean one thing.

“What did they do?”

Fadel sighed, and then his face twisted.

“Ooooh,” Style cooed. “Did you catch them again?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “In flagranti?”

Fadel made a disgusted sound.

“What are you angry about? You know they’re together? What? Do you think they only hold hands?”

Style had no siblings. He wouldn’t know how he would react if one of them suddenly became a fully formed human with desires. He liked to imagine himself as the cooler older brother. He would buy them condoms and shit.  

“No. It’s just…” Fadel sighed again. “They…” He moved his hands around and Style was delighted about this turn of events. He didn’t think Fadel could be so flustered. He was normally very matter-of-fact about sex.

“They had toys,” Fadel said, and it sounded like someone had forced those words out of him via torture. He sounded like Style wanted to make him talk about his feelings. Again.

Style frowned. “And? Like we did that one time—”

Fadel stopped him with his raised hand. “No. Specific toys. For a specific type of… you know.”

“Sex?” Oh, this was golden, Style thought. But what kind of toys was Fadel implying? That one time Kant and he had hooked up it had been pretty vanilla.

“Oh wait,” Style moved, a huge grin on his face, “like kinky toys?”

Fadel looked like Style had shot him. His expression said it all and Style had to laugh.

“No way. Kant and Bison? Wow. I mean… now that I think about it. Bison looks like he would like to slice you open for schmexy sexy times.”

“Style…”

“But Kant?” Style pursed his lips. “I didn’t think he was the type. Good for him.”

“Please, shut up."

Style laughed even harder. Fadel sounded like he was in pain. Had he known how to get to him like that, his whole approach would have been way more fun for him. Fadel was open about sex or so Style got the feeling from the amount of sex they already had. From outdoor sex to… outdoor sex. They had a lot of sex outside of their beds, now that he thought of it.

“What got you so worked up about it? That they have sex? That it’s kinky? That Kant knows how to give up control?”

He chuckled. It was funny that he immediately thought Bison was the one in charge. Little gremlin.

“You think Bison is in charge?”

“Mhm? Yes.” Style munched on another pickle.

The frown on Fadel’s face disappeared, exchanged for a blank expression.

Oh.

Style was quick, but Fadel was quicker. He grabbed Style’s wrist, yanked and had him crowded against the stove in seconds.

“Hey.” Style was more upset about the pickle he had dropped than being all up and close with Fadel. That was always nice.

“You want to be in charge, too?” Fadel asked.

Style smiled, wide and bright.

“I’m always in charge.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

There was a thing Fadel did, that Style thought he wasn’t even aware of. First, he tried to hide a smile. Most of the time he was successful with that but at the same time, he didn’t seem to notice that his eyes got soft. He looked at Style through hooded eyes with no frown on his forehead or between his brows.

“You want to tie me up, mhm?”

Style couldn’t answer because someone cleared their throat in the general area of the door. They both moved, still standing close and Pearl, the temp Fadel had hired, looked at them annoyed.

“There are a bunch of customers waiting for their food,” she said, sternly.

“And we’re working very hard to cook it for them,” Style answered.

Pearl wasn’t moved by his smile. She squinted her eyes at him threateningly and maybe Fadel had found a long-lost sister.  

“Food will come right up,” Fadel said and turned away from Style with deep-red ears.

“Tonight then,” Style whispered, gave him a clap against his butt, winked at Pearl and then got the hell out of there because he had the feeling both of them carried knives to stab him with.

[katethetank]

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Continuation of the third date. Things get steamy - we're officially into smut territory! Eddie accidentally sleeps over and has his first Robin interaction CW: Dry humping, coming in pants Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, slow burn, eventual smut Word Count:2,300

Chapter 7<<Masterlist>>Chapter 9

The door closes behind them and they kick off their shoes. Steve had every intention of keeping things PG again. But after this date? After bearing themselves to each other in such an intense way? And confirming that Eddie is all in? He lets his control slip a little bit.

He takes Eddie by the hand and leads him through his dark apartment into the living room. The streetlights filtering in through the window cast an orange glow around them. Steve’s hand reaches up and cups Eddie’s cheek, sparkling eyes searching each other. He leans in and brushes their lips together. 

Eddie’s hands come to rest on his hips and he pulls Steve into him while he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. Steve’s lips part to welcome that soft, searching tongue. They lick into each other’s mouths and Steve buries his hands into all that wild hair. It’s even softer than it looks. Steve shuffles Eddie back until his legs hit the couch and he gently pushes him to sit.

Steve straddles his lap and gets his hands back in that hair. He uses the leverage to tilt Eddie’s head back and kisses a line across his jaw, flicks his tongue over his pierced earlobe, gets it between his teeth and gives it a little tug. Smiles to himself at the gasp it earns him. He kisses and delicately nibbles his way down the column of Eddie’s throat, relishing in the moans that leave that perfect mouth and how he squirms beneath him. 

“Stevie…fuck that feels good…” Steve lightly drags the tip of his tongue back up to Eddie’s lips and they lock eyes before diving in. It's not so much kissing as it is mauling each other. It’s wet and sloppy and desperate and so fucking hot. Eddie’s hands are on his hips, gripping tight. With his tongue in Eddie’s mouth he tentatively rocks his hips on Eddie’s lap and yeah - there it is. They’re both hard already. 

They moan and pant as Steve continues a steady rhythm. The grip Eddie has on his hips suddenly tightens, forcing him to come to a stop. “Stevie. Honey. Wait…wait a sec.”

“Shit, sorry, do you want to stop?”

Eddie looks like he’s not sure how to answer that. After a moment he says, “I don’t, but I need to know what you want. Obviously I’m into this,” he says while he thrusts his hips up. “But I can go at your pace. You just gotta tell me what your limits are.”

Steve nods his head and takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm the fuck down. He’s so worked up and Eddie looks so good underneath him, and goddamnit he’s being so respectful it makes something in his chest ache. “Limits. Right. Right uh…I’m super ok with all of this so far. Definitely not ready to have sex. I want to! Just…not yet.”

Eddie’s thumbs rub soothing circles on his sides. “Ok, thank you for telling me honey. So what can I do for you, huh? You want my hands?”

Steve feels his face flush, he can’t believe he’s about to ask for this. “Can we just keep going…just like this?” Yeah, he feels like idiot, asking to dry hump so he can come in his pants like a fucking teenager.

But Eddie just smiles at him. “Yeah sweetheart? You wanna grind on me? C’mere, lift your leg and get comfy on my thigh, ok?” Steve obeys and settles himself high up on Eddie’s thigh, wraps his arms around his neck. “There we go. Any other limits?”

“No marks. Not on my neck anyway. Don’t really want to have to explain that at work.”

“You got it. Now. Where were we?” 

Their lips meet again and it’s softer, slower. They take their time savoring each other, tongues caressing. Steve grips Eddie’s hair and rocks his hips again. Eddie helps him along, slipping his hands down to cup his ass. The feeling of his hands there, big and strong and commanding, makes Steve gasp. Eddie’s lips move down his throat, gently kissing and licking. Steve tilts his head to the side to give him better access. Eddie noses the collar of his sweater aside and attaches his mouth to the skin there. He sucks and bites and leaves his mark where it’ll be out of sight for anyone but Steve.

His hips pick up speed and Eddie looks up at him in awe. “You’re so beautiful, Steve. God, look at you.” Steve moans and pants as they lick at each other’s lips. He’s grinding faster and harder now, has the perfect pressure on his aching cock. He just needs a little bit more, he’s so close. “That’s it honey. Take what you need. Good boy.” 

Steve’s whole body seizes up and he cries out as his orgasm crashes over him. Eddie squeezes his ass as the aftershocks make him tremble. “Holy shit. Holy shit!” he pants against Eddie’s mouth. He rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he comes down from the high. He feels a hand move from his ass to rub slow gentle circles on his back. He feels so held, so cared for. “There you go sweetheart. That was so hot. You’re incredible.” 

Steve sits up, trying not to cringe at the mess he feels in his pants. “Oh my god, Eds. I haven’t done that since I was in fucking high school,” he laughs.

Eddie laughs with him, “No shame in that honey, I’m glad I could make you feel so good.”

“Oh shit, what about you! I’m so sorry-“

“No no, none of that! Don’t worry about me, I wanted to do that for you.”

“But you didn’t get to-“

“Steve! It’s ok! Do I look disappointed?”

He looks over Eddie’s face, and no…the man looks elated. Proud. Cheeks flushed, dimples popping, eyes sparkling. Steve leans down to place a kiss on those plump lips. “Ok, fine. Next time though, I’m not letting you get away with it!”

Eddie laughs and swats at his ass. “Whatever you say Stevie. Now, why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll get you a glass of water?”

Steve stands on shaking legs and heads to his bedroom. He rifles through his drawers and pulls out a clean pair of boxer briefs and pajama pants, and heads to the bathroom. Once he’s cleaned up and in fresh clothes, he heads back to the living room. The lamp has been turned on and Eddie is lounging on the couch. A glass of water waits on the coffee table.

“Well don’t you look cozy? Come on, drink up and get that ass over here. I want snuggles.”

The big bad rock star wants snuggles. Fucking cute. Steve gulps down the water and nudges Eddie to scoot. They lay down and Eddie spoons him, wrapping his arms around Steve like a cocoon. A content sigh leaves them both and he feels a kiss on the side of his head, right behind his ear. 

Eddie’s low rumbling voice has his skin breaking out in goosebumps. “Mmm, this is nice. Were you ok with everything? I didn’t go too far?”

He can’t help the smile that blooms on his face. “No, it was perfect. Thank you…for being so patient…for taking care of me. Nobody’s ever really done that before, ya know? Prioritized me, been selfless.”

“Well that’s a fucking shame honey. Lucky for you, I’m a giver. There’s plenty more where that came from. Besides, watching you fall apart like that? Fuck. Hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve snorts, “Yeah right!”

“I’m serious! Stevie, I get pleasure out of giving pleasure. Watching you riding my thigh, just letting go and enjoying yourself? It was so fucking sexy. The image of your face as you came is gonna be in my spank bank for the rest of my life.”

They both dissolve into giggles, and Steve turns around in Eddie’s arms to kiss those beautiful lips. They melt into each other as they share gentle kisses and whisper sweet things. Before they realize it, they’re drifting off to sleep tangled together on the couch.

Steve is suddenly woken up by pounding on his door. His living room is bright with morning sunshine, there’s a crick in his neck, and Eddie’s eyes slowly blinking open in front of him. Christ, they spent the whole night asleep on the couch. The pounding starts up again and they groan as they both sit up and stretch. Eddie’s husky morning voice asks, “What time is it? Can’t believe we fell asleep that hard.”

“No idea.” Steve looks around for his phone but can’t find it. Shit, he left it in his room when he changed last night. The pounding intensifies and then he hears Robin’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Steven Maria Harrington I swear to god, if you’re dead in there because Eddie murdered you, I’m gonna bring you back to life so I can kill you! Open up!”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and curses under his breath as he goes to the door. He barely has it unlocked before Robin is barging through looking absolutely frantic. “Robbie, what’s going on, are you ok?”

“Am I ok? Am I ok?! Steve, I’ve been calling you for the last hour! We were supposed to meet for brunch and you never showed and I texted you, but you didn’t respond and then I called you like eight times and you didn’t answer! What the fuck Dingus, you scared the shit out of me!”

Steve wraps her in a hug and apologizes. “I’m so sorry babe, I’m sorry. We fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have my phone nearby. I’m ok. You’re ok. Just breathe, alright?”

Robin takes a shuddering breath and then pulls away quickly. “Wait, ‘we’…who’s ‘we’? Is he here?!” Before Steve can even answer, Robin is bolting into the living room. Steve chases after her and finds her with one hand in her hip, the other poking Eddie’s chest. “What exactly are your intentions with my soulmate, huh? I was worried sick that he got ax murdered or something, and then I show up to find you, here in his apartment where you clearly spent the night. Steve is the most important person in the world to me and I will not let him get hurt again. Explain!”

Steve rolls his eyes and gestures back and forth, “Eddie, this is Robin. Robin, meet Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyebrows are practically hitting the ceiling, clearly taken aback by this verbal lashing so soon after waking up. “Hey Robin, nice to finally meet you. I uh…I’m sorry for freaking you out. No nefarious intentions here! We just fell asleep after our date last night. Sorry to keep him from you.”

Robin eyes him warily but relents. “Fine. I’ll let it go, this time. But I got my eye on you, Munson.”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie nods. He turns to Steve and says, “I should head out, gotta check in with Wayne.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. “I’ll walk you out.”

Eddie waves goodbye to Robin and they head to the door. “I had an amazing time Stevie. I’ll text you later?”

“That’d be great. Maybe we can hang out this week?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie smiles. He gives Steve a lingering kiss until they hear Robin obnoxiously clear her throat. “Later Stevie.”

“By Eds.” Steve closes the door behind him and braces himself for the oncoming interrogation. “Coffee?”

Robin crosses her arms over her chest, nods, and follows Steve into the kitchen. She hops up on the counter while Steve gets the pot ready. “Alright Dingus, spill.”

Steve goes on to tell her about their date. The smash room, the trauma dumping (sparing the details since it all seemed pretty private), the food trucks, the park. Then the juicy bits. They always share their sexual escapades and probably know more about each other than they should.

“I can’t believe you humped him like a dog!” 

“Shut the fuck up, Rob! It was hot!”

“How can you even finish like that? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Not hard to when he activates the praise kink.”

“Oh my god, Steven! Did he call you a ‘good boy’ or something?”

Steve’s smile and blush say it all. Robin cackles in delight. 

“So…you didn’t even get a look at it?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, but I sure as hell felt it. That man’s confidence is absolutely justified,” he smirks.

“You’re such a little size queen.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Alright you little floosie, go get changed and let’s grab brunch, I’m starving.”

Steve heads to his room to change his clothes and checks his phone. Sure enough, there are 8 missed calls from Robin and a bunch of text messages, each one more frantic than the last. There’s also a couple from Eddie.

❤️Eds❤️: Hey sweetheart! 

❤️Eds❤️: Totally forgot that Gareth’s cousin took our pic last night. How do you manage to make a jumpsuit look sexy?!

❤️Eds❤️: Also found another one he took before he kicked us out. 😘

Steve smiles wide at the image of him and Eddie wrapped around each other, in the middle of a deep kiss. Is it cringy if he saves it as his Lock Screen? Fuck it. He doesn’t care.

💋Stevie💋: A little voyeuristic but cute! 

💋Stevie💋: Thanks again for last night. For everything.

💋Stevie💋: Maybe wanna come over for a movie night on Wednesday?

❤️Eds❤️: I’d love to. You pick the movie, I’ll bring the snacks!

💋Stevie💋: It’s a date! Come over around 7? Comfy clothes only

❤️Eds❤️: Yessssss 

“Dingus! C’mon!!”

Oh, right. Robin.

He pockets his phone and heads out with his bestie, butterflies in his stomach and a pep in his step.

Chapter 7<<Masterlist>>Chapter 9

*********************************************

Taglist is open!

@annachronisme @mrsjellymunson @kozuuji

[feroluce]

So we were talking about Dan Heng reincarnating in the boothenghill server recently. I think there's a lot of wiggle room in there for how it would go, given

a) we know very little about the transmutation arcanum and how All That works and

b) Dan Feng fucked around hard and found out even harder, so anything we would have known anyway is kaput.

This is something that, apparently, has never occurred before. There's no precedent. There should never be two Vidyadhara with draconic features at the same time, but even so, we have Dan Heng and Bailu both displaying tails and horns.

tl;dr I have a permit that says I can do whatever I want!

In the case that they find out Dan Heng will no longer reincarnate the same way- with Dan Feng having successfully broken the line of the Imbibitor Lunae- I think Dan Heng would be happy about it, in a way. He'll reincarnate the same as any other Vidyadhara now, where he will be a completely different person with no memories every time. There's no more pain or expectations to inherit. Whoever comes after him will have the clean slate he'd always wanted.

The only bitterness he holds about the whole ordeal is that it means he'll be leaving Boothill alone.

And so Dan Heng holds out as long as he can, to the point that even Bailu goes before him ("Now next time you'll have to call me jiejie haha!") but eventually the time comes for a hatching rebirth, and he and Boothill make their way back to the Luofu, to Scalegorge Waterscape.

(As he gets older, as he pushes the limit of the Vidyadhara lifespan, Dan Heng gets slightly more delirious, more forgetful. One morning, Boothill wakes up to Dan Heng trying to crawl out of bed half-asleep, asking what time it is. He was supposed to get up early to help Himeko make breakfast, so he can try to save everyone's stomachs.

Himeko has been long gone for centuries.

Boothill coaxes Dan Heng back into bed with him, tells him it's alright, someone else took over breakfast duty this morning. He forgot to tell him last night. Sorry. Dan Heng settles back in, right up against a warm metal chest plate, goes back to sleep.

If he remembers any of this later when he wakes up again, he doesn't say anything. Neither does Boothill.)

Boothill knows the water isn't good for him. He stubbornly wades out as far as he can anyway.

Dan Heng kisses him goodbye, pinches his cheek, tells him to behave himself through the crack in his voice. There's not much left to say at this point, they've been saying their goodbyes for days now. Boothill cheekily makes no promises, even as he slides his own hand over Dan Heng's, cradles the flat of his palm against his face and holds it there as long as he can. Dan Heng finally disappears under the waves.

Boothill still can't cry.

One of the Pearlkeepers has to come up and chase Boothill out, how long he stands there rusting in the water.

He wouldn't tell Dan Heng about it, of course, but as the 700 year mark approached them, Boothill starting having Ideas. And he decides, as he stands there alone in the sand feeling horribly hollow like he hasn't in a long, long time, fine! Fuck it! Fine!!

Execute Operation Last Hurrah!!

Because I think Boothill should get to go out in a petty, spiteful blaze of glory! Let the man die like how he lived!!

Boothill had simmered down a bit after he killed Oswaldo Schneider, and then even moreso when he and Dan Heng got hitched. But now Dan Heng is gone. There's no one left to stick around for, or to keep him together. So Boothill just goes on an absolute bender.

He leaves everything he and Dan Heng had to charities and rebel organizations. He steals whatever he wants from the IPC and then some. He fucks over as many of their plans as he can, and as horribly as he can. He hijacks himself an entire spaceship to hide away whatever it is he's pilfered and made off with- just the things that are no use to anyone else or that he can't give away without causing too much trouble for the receiver, but he can destroy them and make sure they don't fall into the wrong hands ever again.

And then Boothill finds himself a nice cozy little spot in the captain's room, kicks back with his feet up as he sets course for the nearest sun.

He makes himself a sad little one-sided toast, with the godawful sake Dan Heng would always insist was good after you got used to it. Boothill already figures he's not gonna make it to wherever it is Dan Heng ended up. If he does, it's a sign somethin' ain't workin' right.

But oh, Hell is about to become so, so much worse for all them IPC folks down there.

See ya soon, Oswaldo! ☆

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

I get that you mentioned the LGBT topic is a touchy subject, but could you do something similar for BTS if that’s cool with you?

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged! Just a reminder, that I am reading the energy. Do not take this reading as fact. This does not always reflect reality. This energy can always shift as well. This does not mean they will choose this preference in real life, but I think it is fun to look at what they are energetically aligned with. I have done this on myself and some friends/family and found it fun. If you take this seriously and are triggered, that is on you, can’t help if people can’t have fun in life, reminder it isn’t that deep. At the end of the day these idols will not be affected by this reading. They have other things to worry about. Tarot does not have to always be serious. I enjoy these readings and will continue to do what I want on my blog. Okay, that's out of the way. Let’s see what I get here.

No worries, not a touchy subject for me, just saying that it was for others. I am interested what they may show energetically here.

Jin (2 of Pentacles/7 of Pentacles/3 of Pentacles/The Hierophant/King of Wands) Ya’ll I don’t know if I want to say what I am getting, so behind all these traditional ass cards, the King of Wands hid behind it, this man could be closeted, just going to say it, fuck it. Maybe that is why he seems miserable in relationships, anyway, he will most likely end up with a woman. Alleged, no facts!!!! I go with what I get. Because the 2 of pentacles gives me I will date whomever is most practical, which is a woman, so he will most likely end up with a woman. 

Suga (Knight of Wands/Wheel of Fortune/10 of Pentacles) I see a preference for men, but his true love is money and investing in his future, that is what turns him on lol That is what I feel like he is showing me. Like this knight of wands seems like more of his energy, not going to lie. I am not sure about him. It is about that money for him. He would be the type that would sleep with anyone for money, ya’ll just throw whatever I get out there. I can’t help what I get, those are the cards I got and the feeling I got from it. 

Jhope (9 of Cups/The Moon/9 Of Wands/Queen of Pentacles) Bruh, if this man didn't give me he was straight, I don’t know I would question everything I got lol Just playing. He likes women, but not sure what these first cards were. I had to ask the question again and that is when he gave me the QOP’s and I was like, more like it, yeah, my bias shows. I have strong intuition too, and he gave me straight vibes all the way. Also, this QOP's seems to be showing up for him a lot in readings, if I remember correctly, hmm.

RM (Ace of Cups/9 of Swords/9 of Pentacles) This spread makes absolutely no sense. I don’t get this. He is showing me relationships are difficult and he prefers to be single. He feels freedom alone. So, what are you telling me you asexual now? I don’t know about him.

Jimin (Knight of Cups/2 of Swords/Ace of Swords) I see men, bisexuality, uncertainty, but this knight of cups can be his energy too, once again, not really sure about him either. His energy is hard to grasp here. 

Taehyung (Page of Pentacles/Temperance/5 of Cups) I see a preference for women, maybe younger. He is showing me other things about his love life, but that will wait, until his love reading, got no time for this now.

Jungkook (Justice/Queen of Wands/7 of Swords) He prefers women, he might be sneaking around to meet one lately or want to. He seems to like the rebellious, mysterious sexy type from what I get here.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[shakingparadigm]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TILL

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.