#this song was so written for me

[gojosbf]

Start Here, Caitlyn Siehl // The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller // The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller // Unknown // The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller // Passanger, Alexandra Bracken (a.k.a Heartbreaker) // I wrote this for you, Iain Thomas // These Violent Delights, Micah Nemerever // jjk the light novel translation // The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller // The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller // Elegy, Chen Chen// the playwrights will write your names in the darkness of the sky

[jadewritesficshere]

Thinking about Eddie Munson who was complaining to the rest of the band about his shoulders and neck hurting post show. One of them convinces him to go for a massage.

Eddie shows up day of and is told to strip to level of comfort and get under the sheets laying on his back, his masseuse will knock before coming in. Eddie has not an ounce of care or shame, strips completely naked. Scars and tattoos on full display. He climbs between the sheets and waits. After knocking and hearing a "come in", his masseuse enters and-

The most handsome man he's ever seen walks in. A bit of stubble on his defined jaw, soft pale lips Eddie wants to kiss, big brown eyes Eddie wants to get lost in, slutty little waist and an ass Eddie could-

He introduces himself as Steve. Verifies where Eddie had said his tension was on the form he hastily filled out. Then it starts.

And maybe, maybe, Eddie is a bit touch starved. He could have anyone he wants, but they don't want him just his fame. Pushes them all away. Only gets close to his band, but they all are busy and have their own people outside of work.

And Steve is just touching him. Rubbing smooth circles into his temple, down his cheekbones towards his jaw. Pressing on parts of Eddie's face he didn't even realize were tense. It's relaxing.

And Eddie regrets not leaving at least his boxers on to help hide that he's becoming hard. Kind of embarrassing, which makes his dick harder- which, that's a lot to unpack right now-

"Hey, relax man," Steve says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eddie can see Steve's eyes dart towards the obvious situation," It's natural. Happens to the best of us." "Does it happen to you?" Eddie blurts out. Eddie wants to shove his face in one of these soft plush pillows and scream, but Steve just snorts a laugh and shakes his head at him. Doesn't even respond as he continues the massage.

Eddie tries to hold back his groans as Steve turns his head to the side and rubs his neck into his shoulders. He can feel the tension leave his body slowly. Feel the knots in his muscles release.

Eddie can't, however, hold back the noise he makes when Steve grabs a hold of his hair and tugs it. Eddie's eyes pop open and he stares into Steve's face, who has started blushing. Steve just clears his throat and let's Eddie's hair go before continuing the massage.

[bigchumpus]

🌞🌛

[tsutsumi-kurose]

god… new timeline mitsuba looking at dead mitsuba and supernatural mitsuba and being so sure that those are both the real mitsubas… feels like such an echo of supernatural mitsuba watching alive mitsuba in picture perfect... which feels like such an echo of alive mitsuba trying to be a person who will be seen and loved, who will make friends, even if that wasn’t his real self... only to realize as a ghost that his real, genuine self was already a person that someone out there could befriend and love. is there any version of mitsuba who’s not chasing some other version of himself? mitsuba is remade over and over, each time looking back at the previous version of himself and going oh, he was real.

[anemonet]

Iterator can from my wips (please read that in the tone of blorbo from my show :) (that superstructure is a girl (he/it) to me)

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 9/13

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man—Charles, Max assumes—sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[danthropologie]

i'm a perfect all-american bitch!

[longmaxsilvarg]

[apollorobin]

happy birthday yuno!!! i love yuno so much waaa <3<3 here's a drawing of her with her sad gay uncle (who i also love so so much) (i couldn't resist adding him too) (kazui and yuno are best friends to me) (aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)

[athousandbyeol]

st(r)ay.

he dreamed of warm hugs. tender caresses on the crown of his hair. tidying the messy curls of his bangs behind reddening ears. and he would giggle. he would blush. he would have tears in his eyes. all good things. everything wonderful.

he dreamed of a pair of piercing eyes. that gaze was never directed at someone else but him. and he would replay that scenario every night, each scene was an animation against the emptiness of the ceiling—before he could remember how lonely his nights were before he came. because he was alive when those eyes were on him—he felt so seen.

and that infamous cold smile. he saw it through the haze in his vision and the daze in his mind. and he couldn't remember anything else but that smirk, the smugness of it all.

the roughness of his palms against the softness of his own. they flutter like broken butterfly wings. but still so mesmerising. when their fingers intertwined, he saw a splash of colour, in all shades of black and blue and grey and him.

sheng wang dreamed of jiang tian.

he saw jiang tian in the recesses of his imagination. there were tears in his eyes. they fell. and fell. but jiang tian was still quiet—why was he so silent?

and sheng wang tried reaching out. but the distance between them grew the more he crossed the forbidden line. jiang tian was untouchable. elusive. like the nightmare he had as a child. like the memories of his father's fading warmth on his skin, the conversations between them, tiki-taka. and by then, sheng wang realised, everything was in vain.

so he opens his eyes.

he opens his eyes and sees a shadow of light against jiang tian's face. his features gradually soften as the moonshine dances elsewhere, promising the stars to tango. and its darkness again, in all of its glory, bestowing on the sleeping jiang tian. but in sheng wang's vision, he has always been the brightest. nothing could ever compare to jiang tian's blinding shine.

oh.

and sheng wang feels the overwhelming urge to hold him. to embrace him. to be with him. because he has always been curious—those little touches were lethal, and sheng wang's already addicted. there's so much more in jiang tian that sheng wang wishes to desire. can he?

the sense of security washes over him like a growing tide, making his lungs tighten, and sheng wang could never forget how jiang tian made him feel.

and he feels so much. too much.

he could never forget how jiang tian made him be.

jiang tian is now drenched in red.

sheng wang knows this is a warning, a sign—don't. they sound like white noise in his ears, these no's and don'ts and pleas. sheng wang couldn't care less. because temptation has always been so delicious, and sheng wang's always a bit reckless.

so he leans closer. just enough to count the long lashes brushing against jiang tian's cheekbones, lulling him to sleep. just enough to remember the zeal of jiang tian's presence, ever-so-grounding, like an old tree under the pouring rain. just enough to understand that he loves.

he loves jiang tian so. he hopes jiang tian won't go.

his heart, oh, his poor heart. sheng wang believes that jiang tian could hear it. the roar. the growl. but maybe sheng wang wants jiang tian to listen. listen to the voice calling his name ever since—ever since he knew what wanting is—ever since he understood what loving is.

it's cold. so sheng wang pulls the blanket further up, covering both of them, sheltering them from the potent glare of these red lights. and when he breathes jiang tian in, sheng wang surrenders. he shudders.

don't leave me.

sheng wang shatters.

[aslyran]

Happy birthday Kim Dokja!

[cowboyidiot]

steve rogers // sun bleached flies, ethel cain

[kaleiidoskope]

ddhdhjshdj forgot to post this but BOOMBOX MY BELOVED I LOVE THEM!!! /plat

i cant decide on how light/dark i want their skin to be so yea! alt versions under the cut (further rambling will be taken to tags) (i’ve decided that now…) (<- probably because i can write WALLS of text about my art and stuff if people let me) (i will GLADLYYY ramble in dms) (also tag limit jumpscare)

style practice </3

grrrgh i love this idiot they’re just so shakable

trying to draw chubby people too this is all just practice tho i’m still learning despite how long i’ve been doin art :,]

[phantomrose96]

i just caught up with a breach of trust and I don't even know WHAT to say. thank you? jesus christ? oh my god? my husband and friends all hate me bc I won't shut up about it? I've never read a fanfic that could hold a candle? a match even? I've been reading in all my spare time. I've had dreams bc it's the last thing I'm thinking about at night. then I read more over breakfast. WOW? wowowowow? thank you again?

(A Breach of Trust)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Thank you for being as brain-rotted as I am over this Utter Behemoth of a fic!! It's woven into the fabric of my being at this point.

I've poured my heart and soul into it and it means so so much to me, so hearing that OTHER people are like, bothering the people in their OWN lives about it? Wow. I'm very happy over the notion that there are strangers who know vaguely of ABoT because their loved one wanted to tell them all about it.

I've really loved building it up from an empty Word document. I'm really happy and lucky other people have come along for that. Thank you!!

[aherosoup]

"I knitted you a hat all blue and gold, to keep your ears warm from the Binghamton cold. It was my first one and it was too small, it didn't fit you at all...and you wore it just the same." - The Hat by Ingrid Michaelson

I’ve been so obsessed with my own au stories i couldn’t think of ideas for canon, so happy birthday miss carpenter <3 happy bday canon virge too maybe ill draw him a little smth later LOL

[heartofarcanum]

OK AND ANOTHER THING

I have to give credit to Amen and Evthys’s enemies to lovers plot and Amen’s character. How many times have I read “it’s enemies to lovers” and it’s just two people who sorta hated each other but now it’s fine. How many times have I read “he’s brooding and bad and has done horrible things” but he also saves kittens from trees and helps orphans in his spare time?

Like she pulled no punches. Amen wants to kill Evthys, he thinks about it often. Evthys knows he will kill her, knows and loves him almost against her will anyway. They know what they are, they know they’re destined for tragedy but they can’t help themselves. That is what enemies to lovers should be.

And the follow through with Amen. She told us the man is a monster and the man is in fact a monster. He doesn’t have a heart of gold, he doesn’t secretly help orphans or donate money in his spare time. He is a hunter, a killer, and he does not pretend or act otherwise. He tortures and he kills and he isn’t kind about it even when she asks him to be. There’s no way to excuse his actions and there shouldn’t be. There should be no “but it’s ok because” — it’s not ok, it’s fucked, and that’s the point.

Their relationship is fucked, but it’s what enemies to lovers is supposed to be. He’s what a morally gray character is supposed to be. These are not supposed to be happy or kind things. In scn they’re not sugar coated in any way and that’s part of what makes it just so freaking good.

If you hate Amen, good you’re supposed to. If you love Amen anyway, good you’re supposed to. That’s the trap and tragedy of enemies to lovers—it’s a car crash you can’t look away from, because no matter how bad it gets you’re always hoping they survive. You’re always hoping that somehow all of this will end and they’ll be happy, no matter how unlikely that is.