#he probably will in other fics

[moonlightshaiku]

Kissing Hux

In everything Hux does he goes for the jugular, and kissing is no different.

He loves giving special attention to your neck, so much so, that you have to be on guard lest anything is left in his wake.

He's less sweet and more "begrudgingly and tiredly affectionate", so anything that's sweet and/or soft is probably prior to caf or in the name of comfort.

He usually kisses close-mouthed. Biting occasionally, but he'll never use his tongue unless his partner initiates.

He'll hold on to your face or shoulders in a stern grip, pressing his body to yours. Hux runs rather cold, but due to his uniform layers, is warm to the touch. His neck is always warm and ruddy, hands cold and pale.

As soon as Hux steps out of the shuttle, hair mussed, he's in front of you. It's night, and the hangar is relatively empty, so he gathers your face in his hands.

Kylo climbs out of the shuttle behind him, ragged and dirt-covered, mask off. He rolls his eyes, boots clicking on the ground as he steps away from you both, giving you privacy.

As soon as Kylo is out of sight, Hux breathes. "Maker." He presses a kiss to your jaw, then to the corner of your lips.

You interrupt the inevitable, "I missed you," with your lips, and he reciprocates eagerly. He pulls himself closer to you as you kiss, he smells like sweat and his cologne. He's a bit too warm, you wonder why.

Once he's pressed firmly to you, he grabs your hair, pulling your head back slowly. He presses a kiss to your neck over your uniform, breath hot on the underside of your chin.

[eggcromancer]

Okay hear me out, a lot of Y/N x DCA fics has Y/N replacing Vanessa as the night guard; But what *if* I make them work besties instead? 👀

full credits to @way2gosuperrstarr for the technician y/n & night guard vanny brainworms! (I'll be charging you rent later!! 💥💥💥 //affectionate)

[justaz]

merlin who uses his magic everyday in ways that he doesn’t realize isn’t normal. magic helping him see in the dark so he can find his way in the woods or dark rooms with no problem. connecting with the woods around him so he always knows where he is and whats in the general vicinity which allows him to sense bandits just before they attack. using magic to keep warm in the cold or to cool down in the heat. confident and willing to go toe to toe with anyone bc he knows that regardless of what they throw at him, he could always win bc he could just use magic.

then somehow someway (post magic reveal) a sorcerer takes away merlin’s magic. or well just locks it away ig. but anyways merlin doesn’t have this part of him anymore and is left feeling empty, exposed, and vulnerable. arthur, the knights, and merlin going on a quest for answers to their problem and a way to get merlins magic back. but. but. but merlin is all jumpy and he’s rambling more than ever and is often reaching out to grab onto someone (usually arthur) and everyone’s confused and then they get ambushed and merlin freezes in the middle of the path like a deer. he’s watching everything go down around him with wide eyes until he’s targeted and one of the knights have to rush in to save him. afterward merlin is constantly holding someone and his grip is rather tight. he keeps looking around, his eyes scanning the trees around them over and over. when they try and settle down for the night, merlin wont leave the camp without an escort or two and when they’re trying to go to sleep, merlin is flinching at every noise in the woods around them and ends up shuffling over toward the person closest to him and laying pressed up against them.

arthur opening his mouth to tease and call him a coward when the word registers in his mind and he realizes that that’s what he’s actually seeing, merlin scared and defenseless. he ofc doesn’t realize the true depth of it all, i mean he knows merlin is missing his magic but he doesn't know that magic has always been a part of merlin, it makes him him. he’s had magic since he was born, he’s never known life without it. as he is now, he feels bare and exposed and blind and deaf and terrified. the knights are his defense rn and for the past few years, merlins been their protector so its a complete reversal of everything he’s ever known. he’s scared. arthur bites his tongue and lets merlin hold onto his arm and snuggle up close at night for some form of comfort and security. he doesn’t tease or mock and responds to his ramblings of fear with a level of gentleness the knights weren’t aware he even possessed. merlin slowly relaxing as arthur subtly comforts him without addressing it

[keferon]

…..I should be working rn but one of the songs in my playlist hit harder than usual so

[bubblingsteam]

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Who wants to bet Peerless Cucumber has an entire fan base within the pidw’s fandom? Potentially even bringing in a portion of pidw’s readers who just want to enjoy shen yuan just loosing it in the comments.

Like sure, some of the fandom’s definitely there for the toxic masculinity and papapa, but I guarantee you there’s an entire section dedicated to gleefully watching the fandom sewer rat being feral.

[sunderwight]

Hualian Idol AU where instead of the statues the big reveal of Hua Cheng's longstanding amorous fixation on Xie Lian is all of his self-insert "my mom sold me to One Direction" style fanfics located in the depths of some boyband RPF archive.

[capricioussun]

2am post jumpscare

[stevebabey]

totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

[canisalbus]

Did Machete or Vasco ever commission portraits of each other? Can only imagine future historians scrutinizing the relationship they shared.

I'd like to think they did. Or perhaps more likely they commissioned a pair of self-portraits of themselves and then traded.

Moreover, I find the idea of them owning miniature portraits of each other really charming. They were small enough to fit in your pocket so you could carry one on your person if you wanted to, and more subtle and inconspicuous than having a larger scale portrait of someone on your wall.

[demigods-posts]

canonically, percy isn't aware of the crushes people have on him until it's too obvious to deny — like when annabeth kissed him, or when nico straight up told him. and since percy isn't aware of rachel's crush on him until the beginning of tlo, that means there was a point in time when rachel was actively trying to get with him and he had no idea. and it's not even his fault lol. he just only saw her as his good friend and just thought her advances were her being friendly. i just have to see this in action.

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[whaliiwatching]

gay people judging you

[justaz]

whats so funny to me is how merthur deal with jealousy and the knights’ knowledge of it. like arthur? he is so obvious. SO obvious to literally everyone but merlin. he’s pouty and then aggressive. the knights know this. as touched as they are by merlin’s compliments, they desperately want him to stfu bc every word of praise he gives them, is one more level of how enthusiastic arthur will be when he demands they spar with him.

merlin is literally the same but the knights never really see him get jealous. arthur is obsessed with merlin so there nothing really for merlin to get jealous of. until theres a repeat of cedric where arthur is annoyed by how often merlin has been shirking his duties and takes a new servant just to mess with him. and then merlin is glaring at the new serving boy when neither he nor arthur is looking at him, he is “super clumsy” around the new servant and “trips” on his way out of the stables after mucking them out and “accidentally” covers the servant in horse dung, and sets up scenes for the new servant to fail and thin arthur’s patience until he fires them. then he turns to merlin and is like “i need this done” and the knights expect merlin to act like arthur and jump at the chance to attach himself to arthur’s side, but merlin just smiles politely and says “oh im sure george/gwen/any other servant in camelot would be honored to do that for you, sire” and walks away

anyway i would love to see the knights who have to constantly suffer a jealous arthur sit back and watch a jealous merlin fight his foe in his own way. then watch the slight difference between jealous!merthur as where arthur would drag merlin with him everywhere, merlin can’t seem to get away from arthur fast enough. now arthur is chasing merlin around like a love sick puppy. the knights are in awe. the newer knights who weren’t aware before, now have to confront the fact that this insolent servant has the king of camelot wrapped around his little finger.

[crispyjenkins]

i don't know who needs to hear this today but the jedi would not be body-shy

especially during the war. some would be uncomfortable, sure, or even heavily dislike being nude and/or bathing around others, but the point of that is that would be respected as a choice. there is a very large difference between preferring not to be nude around others, for cultural religious or personal reasons, versus being ashamed. nothing you can do can convince me jedi would be ashamed or embarrassed of their or others' bodies.

why. why would the jedi think nudity undignified. why would they turn their noses up at it as unseemly, rather than a choice and preference

[meowkunas]

falling asleep on you !

w/ al haitham, wanderer, diluc, tartaglia/childe

a/n: under the cut because they got really long omg

al haitham likes to rest his head on your shoulder whenever he's tired. when it's in a more private setting, he'll lay his head in your lap instead. a loud, satisfied sigh will leave his lips once he's in this position. it's almost as though all the tenseness in his body simply dissipates once you start running your fingers through his hair. he rarely drifts off for a nap, but he looks close enough to peace when he's lying down like that.

it's the closest you'll ever get to having him be needy or clingy in any way. he tends to lean his whole weight onto you without explicit warning, so it's taken some practice to make sure you don't fall over on to one side — helplessly squashed.

there are signs to look out for.

you'll notice him staring at you out of the corner of his eye, making sure you're comfortable with how you're sitting before he places his head on your shoulder. sometimes he'll even mention that it's very "quiet and peaceful" before nearly knocking you over with a heavy slump.

when he's been kept up late for too many nights, he really will drift off to sleep. he's heavy and he makes your entire body ache from trying to hold him up, but you can't really bear to move him, especially not when he smiles in his sleep after you brush your fingers over his cheek.

he won't tell you that he always wakes from your sudden touch.

and with how cute he thinks you are when you're trying not to wake him, he doubts he ever will.

"i don't need sleep." wanderer announces proudly. it takes him exactly nine minutes to pass out after you promise that you'll keep watch while he's resting. you even make sure that he's asleep by waving your hands in front of his face to see whether his eyes twitch. nothing.

he doesn't even breathe.

his arms stay crossed over his chest and his hair falls onto one side. completely at rest.

still, this is the last thing you were expecting would happen. you resist the urge to touch his face. you haven't gotten that far with him yet.

unfortunately, you end up falling asleep beside him instead of keeping watch. there's something so comforting about his weight on yours, that you lean back into him, just to close your eyes for a few minutes.

the next time you wake is with the morning sun, and with a blanket haphazardly thrown over you. you fight with it for a bit, tangling your arms even further.

"oh good, you're up," comes the familiar, haughty voice. you expect to be berated for falling asleep, but he says something different instead. "thank you."

"huh?" you murmur intelligently. it's not fair that he does this when you're still groggy from sleeping.

he turns away, pretending he said nothing else. you smile at his back. guess he's still full of surprises.

diluc's very gentle with you. he's always been the one to beckon you over once he notices you yawning or when you look a little down. the way he caresses you while wrapping you in his arms is enough to send you straight to sleep. it's cozy.

but you've never seen him asleep before you. he's always been the one to creep back into your shared bed at the crack of dawn, when you're just awake enough to know that he's there.

this time, you're the one late.

he's already sleep — legs stretched out and turned onto one side. you take a single step forward and jump as he snores, disturbing the silence.

you crawl into the bed, facing the outline of his back. you reach out for him just to hesitate before actually touching him. what if he wakes up if you try to cuddle him? what if he has a really busy day tomorrow and he'll be frustrated with not getting enough sleep?

he answers the myriad of questions for you. just your presence must be enough for him to know you're there in his sleep. he ends up turning over to face you and bundling you up in his arms, letting out a huff. on the other hand, you're tense, unsure if you've accidentally awoken him or not.

"diluc?" you mumble.

the only answer is his steady breathing.

hope you're ready to stay squished in that same position for the whole night.

tartaglia pesters you with affection. he shows up at your door in the middle of the night sometimes, claiming he has "no where else to go right now". on certain nights, he'll be covered in blood that's definitely not his with a fiery look in his eyes as though he's set alight from the inside. he's not really there on those nights.

more often, he shows up with a cheery look on his face that disappears once you start to clean him up. you don't need to look at him to know that he's already staring at you.

tartaglia is always quiet in both types of nights; an unsettled nature or a calm energy. you're never sure what you're going to get.

but you know this: he would always show up after long periods of disappearing, even if it was just the smallest scrape. just to see you.

he'll be the one tucking himself in between your legs on the couch, no matter how many times you tell him that his legs are too long and he's way too heavy to lean back on you like that. but he does it. somehow.

when you start to grow tired from listening to his shenanigans, he becomes so gentle with you. he'll carry you to bed and hold you until you sleep.

he's gone in the morning, or maybe he leaves once he's sure that you've been lulled to sleep. either way, you know he was here. even if he tries to disappear without a trace.

he's always here on the nights that you sleep the best after all.