#the one that���s alive?

[wr0wn]

When I wake up, I'm afraid

Somebody else might take my place

[shima-draws]

OH?? OH MY GOD??????

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie living together in their first apartment in LA. Its the 90’s its a heatwave in the 100’s everyday. The power grid is overwhelmed so the city has resorted to rolling blackouts.

It was Friday which meant it was their neighbourhood tonight. After work Steve stopped at the store and got beer, candles, and pizza to prepare for the night. He was meeting Eddie at home and they would have an hour before the lights were out.

“Hey baby I’m home.” Steve called as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“God its hot as balls Stevie.” Eddie yelled back dramatically from the kitchen. He made his way over and draped himself against the doorframe as he watched Steve kick his shoes off with a huff, his arms full of groceries.

“Oh hi Stevie love of my life who got me booze and dinner, how was your day? Oh sure of course i’ll help you,” Steve mumbled to himself giving Eddie a side eye and a hip bump as he made his way into the kitchen with the groceries.

Eddie followed closely behind him pulling him in close despite the heat and sweat on both of them, “Hello Sweetheart how are you? I love you. Thank you for the groceries.” He mumbled into the back of Steve’s sweaty neck.

Steve broke easily, turning around into Eddie’s grip after only an eye-roll. He leaned in and accepted his expected kiss unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips. “Your hair is cute.” He said as he pulled back resting against the counter.

“Why thank you hair professional Stevie darling.” Eddie batted his eyelashes and twirled a stray curl that had fallen out of the messy bun on his head.

Steve scoffed and pushed a hand against his face breaking free of his hold and going back to unloading groceries. “We should have a cold shower before we loose power. Then I was thinking we could go on the roof and look at the stars later.” He said it casually but Eddie saw the way Steve’s eyes nervously looked back at him over his shoulder.

“That sounds perfect, we can even bring the portable radio up with us I just stole new batteries from the store.” Eddie gravitated back into Steve’s space. “And Claudia just sent us that outdoor blanket she made.” His fingers danced up and down Steve’s waist.

“How romantic of you.” Steve teased, trying to squirm away when Eddie pinched his hip.

“You pretend to hate it but I know you are a hopeless romantic lover boy Stevie.” Eddie’s hand slid forward and pushed Steve’s hips back against his own. “I’ll always give you what you want though, because I love you so much.”

Steve was speechless at the sincerity of Eddie’s words. He instead turned around and kissed Eddie in a way he hoped showed how much he loved him.

After they parted ways, Eddie took over in the kitchen to put away groceries and assemble their meal while Steve showered first. Once finished he decided to set up outside, dragging out the aforementioned outdoor blankets, portable radio and of course food. Once all was said and done he checked his watch: 7 minutes until the power cut. He listened and heard Steve humming to himself in the bathroom, so he lit a path of candles to the roof because he was romantic like that.

“Hello Romeo” Steve greeted him on the roof, 10 minutes later beers in hand. The cool bottles were already dripping from the heat, Steve wiped the excess water on the back of his neck.

“Hello sweet steviette, you look so beautiful under this warm eve’s moonlight.” Eddie crooned back, draping himself out dramatically and reaching a hand to Steve. He smiled at his boyfriend’s eye-roll and took the beers from his hands.

“Thank you nerd,” Steve said with an edge of sweetness to his voice, still leaning over into Eddie’s space for a quick peck,

They ate after that, both ravenous after their long days at work. It was a comfortable silence they sat in, so close their thighs touched. Eddie silently handed his crusts over to Steve and and Steve popped the top off another beer for him. And when they finished they lay together on their backs, hands intertwined as they looked at the stars.

“I love you, you know that right?” It was Steve who broke their silence first.

Eddie rolled onto his side, keeping Steve’s hand in his. “Of course I do.” He pulled it to him, placing a gentle kiss on Steve’d knuckles.

Steve turned his head to face Eddie, “Okay good, just making sure.” He smiled but Eddie could see the edges of worry in his eyes.

“Come here.” He tugged Steve over and into his arms despite the heat and the sweat covering both of them. “I love you and I know you love me back baby, forever and always,”

“Forever and always,” Steve agreed as he and Eddie both leaned into each other’s space until their lips were touching and a silly make-out began.

Eddie rolled on top of Steve attacking his face with kiss after kiss, on his cheeks, forehead, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids, and finally his lips. Steve deepened the kiss immediately hands gripping Eddie’s shoulders so insistently Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle against Steve’s lips.

“What?” Steve pulled back but only enough to ask.

“You loooove me,” Eddie dissolved into a fit of laughter, clinging to Steve and hiding his face in his shoulder as Steve laughed and tried to shove him off.

“Oh fuck off.”

[hawkeyeslaughter]

my three lameass husbands , yes they smoke weed <3

[gelphiegifs]

"Nobody's staring... Nobody's pointing..."

[n0phis]

welp. theres the realization that i have to filter thru who likes my posts to make sure everyone who supports the brighton biter is blocked LMFAO. if you support him get the fuck off my page dude!!! why are u even here anymore !!! i can 100% confirm that while other characters from the dsmp might appear in future works, i am never drawing him- even just his character- in the future!!

[remyfire]

I've said it once, I'll say it a million times. I love it when he's the worst.

[edenfire]

💗🏥 Shuake Week- Day 6 - Wound Tending 🏥💗

I've always really liked the idea of goro waking up after the engine room with a bullet wound in the chest. he miraculously survives, and akira has to take him in and tend to him, while hiding him from shido's men😳💦

(also yes, goro is wearing akira's pj pants😌💞)

[athousandbyeol]

oh, wow. i don't know what to say...

this episode feels like a fever dream to me. i can't really wrap my head around it. but everything about it is just beautiful. and painful. but so wonderful.

honestly, i had a hard time breathing during the first 10 to 20 minutes of the episode. just because, maybe i'm not used to seeing jiang tian and sheng wang being this 'cold' with/towards each other. from the previous episodes, even though they're standing or talking or looking at each other at a distance, it's always brimming with warmth. but the opening scenes of this episode feel cold and distant and awkward.

and because of that... i cried. hahaha. weird, right?

i didn't cry yesterday even though (in my opinion) episode five was even more heart-wrenching. but this one... i cried multiple times :( probably because I don't like seeing fights commencing (even in real life). this silent treatment and cold shoulder thing; i don't like it. it breaks my heart.

and then sheng wang no longer wants the model student title, letting go of something he doesn't have control over. and jiang tian doesn't want it too—because they're in this together. they trust each other. they only have each other.

and then the clouds are slowly clearing once teacher zhao talked about living without plans or schedules. that epiphany on both sheng wang and jiang tian's face was so moving. and jiang tian just took sheng wang's hand as they ran to their next class. //that was so beautiful. that was one of my favourite scenes in the trailer :(//

and it's just beautiful. when jiang tian asked, "when are you going to reopen?" and feed sheng wang that hawthorn candy... like this is a sign of them making truths.

and when jiang tian said, "don't be half-hearted with me," and sheng wang's instant reply, "from now on, I'll tell you only the truth," oh, God. oh, Lord. my heart was pounding.

something about sheng wang's smile. something about jiang tian's facial features softening. it breaks my heart. but in a good way. the string of fate connecting them right now feels so fragile but so beautiful and honest and pure. i hope it'll be that way for as long as the universe allows them to be happy—before another gush of wind interrupts—before more plans are written on pieces of tear-stained paper.

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[pine-rhyme]

My most sensible prediction for Alecto is that at some point in the book, Alecto's soul will go into Noodle.

I really hope nothing bad will ever happen to Noodle but I think that her transfering to a non-human body will give her a very sweet moment of unbridled joy. We know Nona suffers from some sort of dysphoria, wishing she had more legs and finds hands a general nuisance. If anything I am rooting that Alecto will either find a way to transform herself or find another host because having been made as a Barbie is a masive disrespect to everything that she is.

And it might also save her from the fate of every cover character in this series and will survive to be there too in the epilogue.

Also it will be badass as hell and hilariously cartoonish for her to bite John's ass.

[eriexplosion]

The thing about Tech's fall is that I've seen about 3 dozen polls over the past year on if people think he's Alive or not and the absolute highest I have ever seen the "dead" option get was a straight 50/50 on a site where the majority of people actively wanted him to be dead for Stakes. Most of them though only range from 20-30% thinking he's gone.

So the elephant in the room is that if he is dead then it's bad writing. Not because you can't kill characters but because if you do kill one and cannot convince more than half your audience that he's actually dead then however sad and well executed the scene might be in isolation, you wrote a bad character death. Whether it didn't follow from the plot or it wasn't written in a believable way, or any other reason that people might not believe it, you cannot have a well written character death that can't convince a majority of the audience that it's real.

And I just don't think they're that bad at writing! I don't think they'd be so lazy with the first major character death that they fail to make it feel final and believable! Tech is as beloved by the writers as he is by us, that much is clear, and I think that if he was dead his death would get the attention it deserved rather than happening and then never getting properly addressed for the rest of the episode because too much is happening at once. And I think that if he was dead, they'd have made it completely clear from the jump that he was.

[jamlessjj]

Wishing all my U2 mutuals a very fine evening because this Absolutely Unreal performance of “One Tree Hill” happened on this day in 1989

[apricote]

[scullcrusher101xd]

have a h8red

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Thinking thoughts about Abuela being back and with this backstory about her being taken in by charlatans and Eddies whole catholic guilt thing and how the two things kind of play into one another as an exploration of faith and being taken in by something.

Abuela giving all her money to the tarot card readers etc because she was searching for something - for connection (with Abuelo) - trying to recapture what she had lost, and How Eddie has spoken about trying to re-find the magic he had with Shannon - how Eddie hasn't actually fully reconciled the Shannon of it all when it comes to relationships and how his Catholic guilt connects into that.

How Marisol as a physical representation of Catholicism is part of that narrative - how Eddie is entering a place where he has to chose his path - in order to move on from Shannon he needs to fully square the hole - catholic or non catholic. And how that needs to happen first - before he can begin his queer journey!