#i'll write something longer

[neosvcr]

dry humping with anton... him holding your hips, guiding you against his bulge. whispering encouragements against your lips with that grin of his, finding you so adorable when he watches you fall apart on his lap. his own self restraint hanging on by a thread as he felt you leak onto his thigh. cooing at you, almost mockingly, but you were way too desperate to care. pressing kisses against your lips and revelling in the way you struggled to kiss him back. laughing softly when he pulls your hair back to see the tears in your eyes. begging him for his cock, and him promising to give you what you want soon. he just wants to see you pathetic and desperate for him.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[inkbybambi]

you're always the consolation prize.

it hurts, an ache between your ribs that never truly goes away; a new crack that heals uncomfortably in your bones, in your soul. you're of no use as the priority, so you've resigned yourself to being second (or third, or fourth) best every time they call for you.

you see them smiling at each other, a quirk to their lips that call to a certain kind of fondness; there's a sparkle in their eyes that always dulls when their attention turns to you. resigned themselves, almost.

you don't know why you stay.

they've never given you a reason to.

[myfairstarlight]

Something about Maelle erasing Alicia without a second thought because it is "what she wanted" and respecting her wishes, and then Maelle refusing to let Verso go despite him repeating that he doesn't wanna live.

Something about self-hatred, guilt, and yet the selfish need to keep the last piece of her brother, and being able to watch him grow old.

Something about killing her painted self, and in turn letting herself decay in the canvas, refusing to go back to the reality that Alicia was a mirror of.

But at the same time letting herself fall to the fate she, unconsciously, thinks she deserves.

She should have been the one to die in that fire, after all, her mother and sister agree.

[osamusriceballs]

Kinktober Day 27 <3

Ushijima x dirtytalk

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~ 2,3 k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day

"Here, Wakatoshi-kun! Look at this!"

A phone gets shoved into his face, the brightness level way too high for comfort, but he squints to take a look at the screen. A small grunt leaves his lips at the lack of greeting from his red-haired friend, but he chooses to focus on the screen instead.

It's an Instagram post with a picture of him, one taken during the Olympics. He looks at the picture, confused, but then Tendou starts scrolling through the comments

"I'd combust if he called me 'baby' with that deep voice."

"Do you think he's vocal in bed?" Reply: "He doesn't talk much in interviews, so I doubt it." Reply: "What a waste. His voice is so hot."

"LOOK AT HIS ABS *drools*"

"The world is going crazy ever since you said 'baby' in that one interview!" Tendou wildly gestures with his phone still in his hand, his grin almost smug when he elbows Ushijima. A frown appears on the spiker's face as he tries to recall the interview. It was one that he wasn't too fond of, due to the number of personal questions that had been asked. Way too personal questions for his liking.

"Ushijima-san, do you have any plans to start a family soon? When can we expect a baby, a little Ushijima junior?" "Baby?" he had echoed, clearly taken aback by this question, something that the interviewer probably failed to notice, but to the people close to him, it was fairly obvious. The silence after this question lead to speculation on the internet about his relationship status, something that he has kept private so far.

"It wasn't in a sexual way." Ushijima states after skimming through more comments, raising his eyebrows when the messages get more explicit and vulgar. "I was surprised when he asked the question."

"Doesn't matter! The world is going feral now, everybody wants to be Wakatoshi's baby! And even I have to admit that I got butterflies when I heard you say that. Y/n is really lucky~" Tendou hums, mischief clear in his eyes, but Ushijima fails to follow his train of thoughts with this.

"Why is she lucky?"

"Because she gets you to say sweet and dirty things to her all day long. You can't fool me, Wakatoshi-kun; I'm not only your best but also your oldest friend." Tendou winks and strolls ahead, oblivious to the way Wakatoshi is left standing there with a frown on his face, still.

xxxxx

"Y/n?"

You rub your arms dry with a fluffy towel when his voice comes from the other side of the door.

"Hmm?" you hum, smiling excitedly because he is finally back home. "I'll be out in a second."

"Yes, please. We need to talk." You hear him lean against the door frame, clearly waiting for you to come out.

You freeze at his words, eyes growing wide when realization settles in and you fully comprehend his words. "Talk? Talk about what?" you know that you sound shrill and loud, but you can't help yourself but to feel nervous at his serious tone- even more serious than normally.

"About us." Your jaw drops, and you quickly reach for your bathrobe, hastily unfolding the fabric to its full length.

"What do you mean about us? Is there a problem with us?" You finally manage to pull your arms through the fabric, quickly wrapping the fabric along your body before you open the door. You're met with Ushijima's broad chest as he quickly straightens to his full posture. His olive eyes roam over your body, lingering for a short moment on your exposed cleavage before they return back to your face. He looks nervous, there is no other way to put it. "I'm not sure. I think there could might be a problem."

"And what would that be?" You cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes boring into his face as if you could find answers for his unusual behavior there. You've never seen him like this before. His usual warm eyes are clouded with worry, his hands fidgeting with his phone in his hands. "Toshi? What is it? Please, talk to me." You're tempted to take the phone out of his hands, but you refrain from touching him, not when you don't know what's going on.

"Are you happy with our sex life?" His eyes don't leave your face, not for even the slightest second to see your reaction, and your jaw drops at the sudden question- you expected a lot, but definitely not this.

"I'm- I mean, yes I am? Shouldn't I be? Are you unhappy?" You take a slight step back, creating distance between the two of you, baffled by the sudden implication that he thinks that you're not satisfied. Or that he might not be. Sex with Wakatoshi is great- hard, rough, and passionate. He knows how to fuck you, that is for sure, but he also knows how to be gentle and sweet, how to take care of you and spoil you, especially during aftercare. You lack nothing in your sex life with him- and you hope that he feels the same.

"I am happy. Very. I enjoy sex with you very much much," he states firmly, but that only confuses you more.

"Why are you asking me then? What made you think that I could be unhappy?" You move closer to him, worry etched in your features when you finally take his phone and put it aside to grab his hands.

"Do you want me to talk more? To be more vocal? I saw a video and people kept on commenting how they want me to call them 'baby' and some more things. Would you like that too?" The way he asks nonchalantly like he was just talking about dinner made this even more embarrassing somehow.

"For you to call me 'baby' during sex?"

"Hmm." He nods and looks expectantly at you, his hands squeezing yours while his gaze seems somewhat calmer now that he is convinced that you're satisfied.

"You... you can call me whatever you want. I'm fine with it." You try to sound unbothered and calm, but the slightly shaking note shows how the thought of him calling you "baby" or "his pretty girl" while he thrusts into you does something to you. He nods, hesitating for a second, but then his hands suddenly drop yours to pull you in by the waist, his other hand coming to your chin while he leans down until his lips are close to your ear.

"My baby. Or would you rather be my babygirl?" His honey-like voice almost puts a spell on you, and you find yourself shivering in his arms, thighs involuntarily clenching together. "S-sounds good, Toshi." You bring your hands up to his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt and his slow and steady heartbeat.

"And what would my babygirl like me to do? Does my babygirl want to be touched?" He lowly mumbles against the shell of your ear, your heart now beating faster when his hands start to roam over your body. "Yes," you breathlessly answer, hands slightly clenching into the fabric of his shirt. Definitely not what you had expected as the outcome of the conversation, but vocal Wakatoshi makes your pussy throb with every single word.

"My babygirl needs me to touch her, huh? I will take care of that pretty little princess cunt." He kisses your cheek, and your legs feel like jelly at this point. You cling to him, hanging on every single one of his words. You feel your arousal growing, feel how you start to get wet the more his hands keep touching you.

"More," you whisper, feeling hot and bothered while he keeps on touching you and pressing kisses to your neck. "More? Is my babygirl needy? That pretty princess cunny needs me to touch her?" He lifts the bathrobe just enough to place one hand on your thigh, and you feel like your body is on fire when he touches you there.

"Yes," you gasp, your hands now finding purchase on his shoulders while you cling onto him like your life depends on it. "What does that little princess cunny want? My fingers?" He grazes his fingertips along your thigh, moving dangerously close to your pussy under the bathrobe- bare, and basically creaming for him the longer he keeps playing with your body.

"Or my tongue?" he licks along the column of your neck, and you gasp at his words, the sensation hot and forbidden god. "I want to taste you, baby. You always taste so sweet. Do you want my tongue between your legs? Licking at your pretty pussy?" His fingers reach your throbbing pussy, slightly parting your folds and dipping in your wetness.

"Do it, do it, Toshi, please," you press your legs together around his hand, effectively caging him right where you need it. "Hmm, but you have to cum on my fingers first." He pecks your cheek and pulls his hand away from your legs, just to place it on your hips to guide you towards the bed. "Lay down for me, baby. Open that bathrobe for me."

His baritone echoes through the room, and you feel yourself doing everything like you're in a haze, full of need for him. "Hmm, that's my good girl." He hums apporvingly when you discard the bathrobe on the floor. Your body is trembling in the cool air of the room, but Ushijima is quick to join you on the bed and to hover above you, radiating so much heat that you instantly feel warm.

"Baby, spread your legs for me. Show me everything." You take a deep breath and slowly part your legs, revealing your glistening folds to him. A shiver runs down his body, and he clears his throat before he speaks again, his voice now lower when he is obviously bothered and turned on by the situation. "Look at how wet you are for me. All for me."

You frantically nod, anticipation rushing through your body while you wait for him to touch you. His fingers finally roam over your thighs, and your head falls back into the pillow at the way he touches you, the way he knows exactly where and how to touch you.

"So impatient. I can't wait to be inside of you, to feel you around me." Your gaze falls to the tent in his pants, the thought of him fucking you making your head spin and your pussy throb with need. His fingers move between your legs, moving along your folds and pressing against your clit. You moan at the sensation, your hands fisting the sheets when his thumb prods on your entrance.

"You look so pretty like this. Just waiting for me to touch you, to fuck you. And you feel so good around my fingers." He pushes his thumb inside of you, and you almost close your legs around him. "I will make you feel so good. I will make you cum on my fingers, on my tongue, on my cock." You clench around the digit at his words, your eyes focused on his handsome face while he keeps on rubbing your clit. "More, please more," you whine your body shaking underneath his. "Shhh, I'll give you more. I'll give you what you need, baby." His eyes roam down your body and you almost protest when he pulls his thumb out, just to quickly replace it with three of his fingers. "Oh, Toshi," you whine, your hips arching into him, and you start to fuck yourself on his fingers. He keeps the fast rhythm, pulling his fingers out, and pushing them back inside, curling them pulling them out again. "You feel so good. You're is creaming for me, look at that." His words only add fuel to your desire, and you grab his shoulders to push him down to you to connect your lips in a needy kiss. He groans into your mouth, his movements slowing down for a few moments before he sets his rhythm again, a fast and punishing pace now.

Your nails rake along his bare shoulders, leaving red marks, and he groans at the sensation. "Come on, baby girl. Let me feel you clench around me. Cream on my fingers, make a mess for me," his voice sends you over the edge, and you moan his name when you cum, your walls pulsing and clenching softly around his fingers. He groans your name, sweet praises of how you're his good girl, how pretty you look under him, how much he loves you, leave his lips and your body arches from the bed into his while your face contorts in pure bliss.

He prolongs your high, making sure to keep his pace and to curl his fingers just the right way, and your body goes limp when he finally slows down. His lips meet yours, pressing chaste and loving kisses to your face. "Was that okay?" The slight frown on his face is back, a clear sign of him being deep in thoughts when he pulls back after a few more kisses.

"More than okay. I think I could cum from your voice alone." You smile up at him and cup his cheek, the afterglow making you feel so good while you lay under him.

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity now sparkling in his eyes at your words, and you are quick to explain further. "I- I didn't mean that literally. Like- I just wanted to say that your voice is hot. And you are hot." Your cheeks heat up when he simply nods and hums, a mild smile on his lips.

"I want to test that out. Let's see if I can make you cum with my voice alone, baby."

[necrotic-nephilim]

as an apology for being gone for a month, have a uquiz i spent a week making! pls feel free to reblog with which character you got, i worked way too hard on this silly little thing. there are eight different characters you can get that are varying levels of unknown, with comic recommendations for each character <3

[fieldofheathers-stuff]

The Silco saga, Part 3: The Eye

*This is the third (well, actually fourth) post in a series I’ve lovingly dubbed “The Silco Saga, a retrospective after Season 2”. It’s halfway between flow of conscience, meta, headcanon and review, spawned from my Arcane brainrot (and recent S1 rewatch) and vaguely aimed at trying to reevaluate the entirety of Arcane with a focus on my Main Man™ Silco. Here is Part 1 (on how S2 handled Silco and Jinx’s relationship), Part 1.5 (miscellaneous thoughts regarding timeline issues and Silco’s actions towards the kids in S1ep3), and Part 2 (Vander and a bit of Zaundads, yaaay).

Please feel free to comment! I love hearing different perspectives on this show.

----------------------------

This will be a short one, but I need to get it out of my system. I just... love, love, love Arcane's use of visual language (and specifically character and environment design) to wordlessly communicate story beats. The whole show is just a perfect synergy of writing and artistic talent, where both contribute to craft a deeply layered and meaningful story.

Silco's eye is such a perfect example of this. To use the eye as a symbol of his corruption post-drowning is such a genius intuition, because it's symbolism is so immediately understandable yet also layered with meaning that is incredibly specific to his character.

There are plenty of characters in popular media where facial disfigurement is used to convey duality and corruption (the most obvious example being DC's Two-Face), and Silco could have easily gone down this well-traveled path of character design. However, by focusing on the corrupted eye in particular, this element instantly specifies the meaning of his mutilation.

Vander's violence didn't just impact him phisically. His scars don't serve just as a constant reminder of the ways in which he (and the world, since the Pilt's toxic waters are an effect of Piltover's exploitation of the Undercity) wronged him. The violence inflicted upon him distorted his vision of the world, metaphorically and literally. He is forced (first by Vander, and later by himself) to view the world through a monstrous filter.

I wonder whether him having to constantly inject Shimmer into his eye is meant to symbolize - or rather mirror - the coping mechanism he uses to deal with his trauma. Silco is shown constantly revisiting The Drowning™ as a crucial moment in his development as a person, and while in his personal narrative he reframes it as a positive and cathartic experience, we are aware, through his flashbacks, that the moment was anything but. Him needing to constantly inject Shimmer into his eye is the physical equivalent to the psycological ritual of "healing" he performs by reframing his trauma as a moment of self-improvement (and literally dunking himself in the Pilt, Silco you madman).

It's only logical, then, that the injections don't seem to work long-term. It perfectly mirrors his psychological state: as the story goes on, we see how his narrative of death and rebirth is just a superficial fix, a solution which could perhaps be sustainable for him alone, but inevitably crumbles as soon as he attempts to apply it to another person (Jinx). Jinx's tragic arc in S1 reveals the fault in his vision: there is no healing to be found in rewriting your past by cramming it into a narrative that suits your feelings and "killing" (denying, hiding, repressing) the bits that you don't like - or that are too painful for you to face.

It's deeply symbolic, then, that he still keeps his scars in the Best Timeline™ of S2ep7, but there's no sign of infection or (what I assume is) Shimmer corruption: the wounds are still there because the past can't be changed, but he is shown to have been able to shape it into something stable, manageable. It's what healing actually looks like: it's neither a return to an umblemished state, nor a rebirth into something completely new, but rather an integration of the past and present self into a whole that is not just the sum (or, in his case, a subtraction) of its parts.

[fluentisonus]

Glaziers' notes + dates written on the window panes of Holy Trinity Church, York:

first pane:

John Burton plum. & glazer Stockton uppon Tees

March [?] 1775

second pane:

John Jackson

Robed this Church

November - 1808

third pane:

James Addison

Plumber and Glazier

fourth pane:

James Addison made this Window new for Mr. Jackson

May 1818

-> the last two panes by James Addison are written one above the other (see below), while the first two are separate. the second pane by John Jackson also seems to have been moved at some point and put back in upside down:

[aclockmaker]

steddie established relationship argument (mild on the actual arguing) under the cut. ~1700 words. cw discussion of having kids. no teaser because it starts out kind of E rated lol

also on ao3

“Pretty baby,” Eddie said, nose in the back of Steve’s hair, dragging against his scalp. “You’re so sweet, you were so sweet with Emily earlier.”

They’d been playing with Nancy and Jonathan’s 3-month old for the first time.

“Oh yeah?” Steve said, grinding the swell of his ass back against Eddie.

“Yes,” Eddie rumbled, lips against a shivery part of Steve’s neck.

After nearly a year of dating, Steve was used to this flavor of praise from Eddie, but it still worked to calm something deep inside him. And it was exactly because he did feel calm that he said, “So do you finally wanna talk about it?”

Eddie made an inquisitive sound into Steve’s skin.

“Eddie. You know,” Steve said gently, holding himself still. He thought if he played his cards right he might be able to get Eddie to mess around a little, ask him if he wanted to get a baby put in him, that sort of thing.

But when Eddie just kept frowning into Steve’s neck Steve went on—“Kids?”

“Uh huh. What about them?”

“Come on,” Steve said, squirming and then flipping over when Eddie let up.  “You know I want kids, right?” He said it softly, because of course Eddie did know.

Except Eddie froze, just a little, and the whole thing began to feel decidedly unsexy. “Uh,” he said, a notch too loud for the situation.

“Okay, not right,” Steve said, mostly to himself. He’d thought, for sure, that he’d been making no secret of it.

“I mean,” Eddie said, trying to recover. “I totally, yeah, I guess, I know you—like kids and everything.” He chewed his lip like he knew it was lame. Steve rarely saw him so wrong-footed.

“Well, yeah,” Steve said. “I do, but—like last weekend, remember when that dad was arguing with his kids about milkshakes? And I said I wouldn’t make a big deal out of a milkshake with my kids—what’s the point?”

Eddie sputtered. “Okay, that was a hypothetical! I thought! I just thought—and you never said—” Eddie shook his head. “Oh. Six little nuggets.”

“Yes, as you’re so fond of reminding me.” Steve rolled his eyes to show he was joking.

“But, Steve,” Eddie said, sitting up.

Slowly, not wanting to do it, Steve followed.

“I mean—what does this mean? You would want to, what? Marry a woman?” At least Eddie seemed baffled by it. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I mean I want to do it with you, obviously. Dumbass,” Steve added for good measure.

“With me,” Eddie said, not able to hide the way his eyes went wide.

“No, with Jonathan,” Steve said, annoyed. “Obviously you, man, who else am I in a serious relationship with?”

“Okay, Jesus, give me two minutes to catch up here!”

Guilt made Steve want to let him off the hook but he didn’t think he should have to, really. Steve frowned at his lap, feeling miserable and stuck. He had the unpleasant sense that this wasn’t going anywhere good.

“Is it really so bad?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know!” Eddie said. He stood up, paced restlessly to the opposite side of the room and back. He was wearing only a pair of boxers and he reminded Steve of a caged animal before he even started throwing on his clothes. 

Steve sat quietly in bed as he dressed only partly because he knew it was the thing he could do that would annoy Eddie the most. And Eddie was the one who was leaving, he deserved it. He also did it because he really didn’t know what else to do. Begging Eddie to stay wouldn’t do any good. They both needed space sometimes.

“I don’t even—it’s not that easy,” Eddie said, picking up his wallet and then putting it down again to punctuate it. “It wouldn’t be that easy for us.”

“I get that,” Steve said carefully. “But I thought… it doesn’t have to be a baby. Maybe an older kid.”

“Steve,” Eddie said, looking almost choked up. “Can we—talk about this later?” His voice had turned brusque. “I just need to—clear my head.”

“Yeah, course,” Steve said, feeling stupid and vulnerable still in the t-shirt he slept in while Eddie was dressed. The fight had gone out of him. Eddie just needed to deal with the revelation in his own way. He’d come back. Steve owed it to him to be patient after, apparently, springing this on him.

Eddie paused at the door. “I do love you.”

“I know. You too.”

And then the door was shutting behind him. Steve’s fingers itched to call Robin but for the first time it felt so personal that he decided against it. It was personal for Eddie, too. It belonged to both of them, and, for right now at least, no one else.

Now, if Eddie wasn’t back by the morning, all bets were off.

Steve gave up on sleeping after a frustrating 45 minutes and resigned himself to sitting up at least until exhaustion won out with worry. And right now, worry was putting up a good fight.

Steve put the water on for tea. He wasn’t stupid—he knew that Eddie might not come back. Or, well, he’d surely come back to the apartment either way but he might not ever really come back to Steve after this.

They were serious about each other. A consequence of the years of charged friendship before they’d so much as kissed, maybe, or just a consequence of how well they usually worked together. They talked about spending the rest of their lives together. Something like whether or not they each wanted kids was a big deal—the kind of thing that changed things. Steve had given Eddie an ultimatum. Part of him wanted to backtrack, call Eddie up and say just kidding, I can be flexible about this. But he couldn’t, and besides, he didn’t know where to call (except for how, realistically, he knew Eddie was at his uncle’s or Jeff’s place.)

In the morning, Steve called Robin.

“Oh, babe,” Robin said when Steve explained it, her voice crackling just a little down the line from New York where she was always up early. “Did you sleep at all?”

“About four hours,” Steve admitted. He’d been too wound up for any more and he was sure as hell feeling it now, exhausted and eyes aching. He hadn’t cried, and he spared a thought for the fact that maybe he was kidding himself by not really examining the worst case scenario. “Do you think—I mean, obviously this isn’t a good sign. That he left. But do you think there’s a chance or am I delusional?”

Robin snorted. “There’s more than a chance. He loves you, obviously. But—yeah, he might decide he wants to end things. We know that’s an option.” She said it gently enough that now Steve did feel a little hot behind the eyes.

Today was a Sunday. Their only plans were hanging out with Jonathan and Nancy and Emily more while they were in town. If Steve had to go see them alone—

“I wish there was something I could do,” Steve said miserably. And then the front door opened and there was Eddie, close across the small apartment, looking a little out of breath in the yellow morning light that was pouring in through the window, too cheerful for Steve’s heavy heart. “Oh, shit, Rob, I have to go.”

“Is it—”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“I love you, call me, that’s a threat—”

Steve hung up the phone.

“Uh,” Eddie said. “Robin?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, Robin,” Eddie said dutifully toward the hung-up phone.

“I’ll tell her,” Steve said, so giddy with relief that Eddie was back that the nothing joke made him want to laugh. “Hi.”

Eddie looked at him. “Hi.”

Steve took a breath. “I’m sorry. For bringing it up during sex, and all. That was stupid.” He’d been feeling guilty some more and that, at least, was a legitimate reason for it.

But Eddie just shrugged. “No, it’s…” He searched for the word. “You thought I knew.” He wore his hair short these days, and it looked like he’d been running his fingers through it.

“Yeah. Eddie, listen—”

“No, just—give me a second,” Eddie said. And then he was going down on one knee, pulling something out of his pocket and holding it out to Steve. It was a simple gold band. It looked well-worn, but it shone in the light.

He cleared his throat. “Steve, I—“ his voice broke. “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring box. I went to the pawn shop as soon as it opened and I didn’t want to wait for another place to—I love you. I got scared when you started talking about kids, because it seems so big. And I just didn’t realize you felt that way, even though, okay, I guess I should’ve. But the more I thought about it the more what really scared me was losing you. I love the idea of you as a dad. You’d make any kid so lucky to have you. I can’t believe you want to do it with me, but if you really do—I’m open to it. So—will you?”

“We can’t even get married, though,” Steve reminded him, perilously close to tears again.

“Psh,” Eddie said. “Fuck the government, I’ll marry you anyway.”

“Eddie, get up,” Steve said, and then the tears were coming. He swiped at his eyes while Eddie stood hesitantly. “Save it, okay? Save the ring. I don’t want it to be like this—to end a fight. I want it to be its own thing. And it’s too soon anyway. It hasn’t even been a year. But—” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand before he could put the ring back in his pocket. “Yes. Of course I want to marry you.”

Eddie touched his knuckles to Steve’s cheek, pushed aside a tear. “Getting some mixed signals,” he said, looking between Steve’s eyes with his own so full of love it hurt to see. “I’m sorry. And for worrying you.”

Steve sniffed. “I was worried but—I knew you’d come back. I know you.”

“I know you do,” Eddie said. He was still holding the ring. “Do you want to at least try it on? You could wear it on a chain or something—”

Steve put the ring on, and he didn’t take it off until the day in Joyce’s backyard when Eddie held it safe in his pocket until it was time for him to put it back on Steve in front of everyone they loved in the world.

[crystallizsch]

hmmm i should start writing random drabbles

i think it'll be similar to my low effort doodles that i prefer / usually do, i feel like it’ll make writing seem less intimidating

[theghostofashton]

.

[libraryofgage]

Prompt 31 of this OTP prompt list! I've got ideas for quite a few of them, but if there's one you're particularly eager to see, just lemme know ^_^ I wanna try to write a little Steddie everyday, whether that's a ficlet here or working on the Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins WIP lol

Prompt: “Why’d you— why’d you do that?” “B-Because I promised you I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 

---

When Steve had realized they were really going after Vecna this time, about to walk into his lair and fuck him up, he'd made a promise to himself. He was going to do everything in his power to keep everyone safe, especially Eddie and Dustin, especially when their final plan made those two the demobat distraction.

Steve has also learned over his past few Upside Down adventures to trust his gut. Going through some life-threatening scenarios tends to strengthen his intuition for danger and general Bad Events. So, when he's following Nancy and Robin to the Creel house and feels a horrible stirring in his stomach (something beyond anxiety and fear and stale bread sitting wrong), he stops.

"I'm going back," he says.

"What?" Nancy asks, spinning on her heel.

Robin, meanwhile, meets his gaze. A silent conversation passes between them through looks and half-gestures and a singular grunt from Robin at the end. Their entire conversation can be boiled down to, simply, "I've got a bad feeling."

Interestingly, going through Russian torture together makes people trust each other's bad feelings.

"Okay," Robin says, nodding once before looking at Nancy. "It's not like we need him anyway. I think we're pretty kick-ass on our own."

"But the plan," Nancy protests, her brows furrowing as Steve realizes she's more upset over the change in plan than she is his leaving them.

Steve places a hand on her shoulder, smiles reassuringly, and says, "Don't worry, Nance. You'll kick Creel's ass, I'll make sure Thing One and Thing Two don't get themselves killed, and we'll all go out for pizza when this is over."

Nancy stares at him for a few seconds before sighing. "Okay. Don't die."

"Wasn't planning on it."

Steve can see the trailer before he gets to it, and he can see the demobats creating a fucked up storm cloud as they stream off in one direction, and he can't hear any of the music that should be playing. The demobats seem determined to reach something that's running away, and Steve gets a sinking feeling in his chest.

He knows it isn't Dustin. Eddie wouldn't let Dustin put himself in danger like that unless it was over his dead body, and there's no way Dustin would let Eddie die unless he happened to be out of sight. Which it seems he is now, and Steve knows things must have Gone Bad to get to this point.

Steve shoots across the Upside Down, racing to reach the demobat swarm. Their screeching fills his ears, echoing and bouncing around his head as he gets closer, and he can start to hear Eddie screaming, too. The words are muffled and covered by the demobats, but he has no doubt Eddie is calling them some insulting name and embracing his Ozzie Moment.

When he's a few feet away from the edge of the swarm, Steve starts swinging with reckless abandon. He takes out demobats as quickly as he can, trying to ignore the grime and viscera that layers on top of itself and his skin as he goes. The demobats get more than a few bites in, and more than a few tails lash at his ankles and wrists and whatever else they can find, but Eddie's screams that grow increasingly more terrified spur Steve on.

After an eternity of faceless bats and black blood and his arms screaming from the exertion of constantly swinging his bat, Steve finally gets to the center of the storm. In the eye, he finds Eddie on the ground, a tail wrapped around his neck and demobats descending on his sides, and Steve sees red.

He doesn't actually process any of his actions. He only knows that one second he's watching Eddie become a demobat main course, and the next he's standing over Eddie, decapitating demobats, yanking them away, slamming them into the ground, swinging his bat at the ones that dare to get closer.

Adrenaline and desperation are the only things keeping Steve going for what could be seconds or hours or days; he really can't tell. His focus has tunneled to only allow his brain to think about protecting Eddie and killing flying demon rats. Even when he hears Eddie screaming his name and grabbing his leg, Steve can't spare a moment to think about him beyond "Eddie would be easier to protect if he didn't move around."

Steve doesn't kill the entire swarm. There are too many, and he's only one man. But he does hold them off until...until something calls them away. One second he's feeling overwhelmed--his heart beating out of his chest and his vision blurring red from the blood dripping down his forehead--and the next, the demobats are screeching one last time before shooting off into the sky.

He would pay attention to where they go, but Steve can only take long enough to confirm that they're gone before he's collapsing. He doesn't hit the ground. Instead, Steve hits Eddie, who had stood up at some point only to fall to his ass once more from Steve's unexpected weight.

Holy fuck, Steve just wants to nap. And he's halfway to closing his eyes and slipping into sweet, sweet oblivion when he hears Eddie, his voice absolutely wrecked from screaming and brimming with some emotion Steve can't place right now, ask him, "Why'd you---why'd you do that?! You could have died!"

"So could you," Steve manages, forcing his eyes to focus long enough on Eddie to realize he's literally being cradled in the guy's arms right now. It's surprisingly comfortable, and he can hear Eddie's rapid heartbeat from this position. "Besides, I promised to keep you safe."

"No, you didn't!" Eddie squawks, and Steve makes a mental note to mock him for it later. "I would've remembered that, Steve!"

Steve huffs a weak laugh, stifles a yawn, and lets his head fall onto Eddie's shoulder. He'll think about Eddie not calling him by some ridiculous nickname later. "To myself. Promised to keep everyone safe. 'specially you, Eds," he says, flashing a faint smile that's probably only more worrying because of the blood staining his teeth.

Eddie looks ready to say more, but Steve weakly and clumsily covers his mouth. "Just so you know, I'm passing out now," he says, his body and brain finally calling it a day once he gets the warning out.

Later, when he wakes up in the hospital, Steve will have to deal with several lectures from several people about how he shouldn't have been so reckless. He'll get to turn it around later by pointing out that Eddie would have definitely died without him.

Steve will also have to deal with Eddie staying behind and shooting him the saddest puppy-eye pout he's ever seen. It will devolve into an argument about how Steve would do it again, how Eddie didn't enjoy thinking he was dead, and how they both think the other is incredibly stupid. That argument will end with a spur-of-the-moment and intense kiss that's interrupted by Steve's heart monitor going out of control, leaving them both blushing and overwhelmed as a nurse rushes in and...and holding hands with tiny, amazed smiles as they stare at each other after the nurse leaves.

But that's all in the future. For now, Steve lets his eyes slip shut, comfortable in Eddie's arms and reasonably assured that Eddie won't go risking his life when he has to make sure Steve gets out safe.

[blackbatofel]

If Superman & Batman officially tie the knot, who do you think would be most likely to take his hubby's last name?

Is it going to be Clark Wayne?

Or...

Is it going to be Bruce Kent?

Hi, there!

I honestly think neither would be willing to do it, considering Bruce and Clark have a significant attachment to their respective last names.

Bruce's last name is a link to his parents and their legacy (and even Gotham, if we take into account how meaningful the Wayne name is to the city). Same thing with Clark, the last name Kent represents his connection to his parents, and you could say that the moment Martha and Jon decided to adopt him and gave him their name, it was also the moment Earth officially became his home planet and the Kent his family. In other words, their last names are, in a way, vital to who they are as characters.

So, knowing how meaningful their last names are, I don't think they would ask the other to change it. If anything, they would end up with something like Bruce Wayne-Kent or Clark Kent-Wayne.

[valiant-typhoon]

Slow progress on the Both Feel the Same When Your Eyes Are Closed AU fic. I love bad guy dialogue when they know a bunch of info. I hate the timline fuckery in naruto so much

Their kunai scraped against each other, their eyes meeting over the locked blades.

“Your death will convince Tsunade-sama to heal my master’s arms all the more,” he hissed with a tight smile, “don’t worry Shizune-san you’ll be revived with Edo-Tensei.”

Her eyes widened, a bolt of horror went through her at the name of the jutsu. “Edo-tensei?”

“Orochimaru-sama decoded the Second Hokage’s notes, it’s quite the accompli—” He was cut off, having to dodge the knife that would have gone through his eye. He continued speaking as if the interruption hadn’t happened.

“Don’t you want to see Dan Kato again?” He asked with a pleasant smile, it would have been indulging if it weren’t so empty. “He raised you, more of a father than an uncle. Don't you want your master happy with her love? See them together again? Your family?” He punctuated his words with a strike aiming for her throat, she dodged, the air brushed over her skin with a deadly warning. Fear and anger were burning inside her chest.

“He died so pointlessly, so young,” he continued, stabbing forward with a chakra scalpel. Shizune retaliated, her own chakra blade coated hand aiming for the femoral artery. He dodged, she sliced through flesh and muscle but the satisfying burst of arterial blood was absent.

“And what will your master do when it’s you who dies and he has no way to bring you back?” Shizune snarled, pushing her advantage, not allowing him to heal the damage.

@moldy-flowers

[altruistic-meme]

the stained glass prompts have me Obsessed, what do you think of: "i shouldn't have been born. there are times when i think that." + skk 👀

OUHHH the stained glass prompts are all SO SO GOOD i know what you mean. i need to rotate some of them some more because every time i look at the list, another one stands out to me

and THIS ONE!!! honestly i think it fits so well with both of skk bc they both struggle so hard with their humanity, but i think Chuuya would probably struggle more with the idea of the destruction his life has brought to others so just. hhhhhhhhh.

anyway i am dead-brained but i still wrote some words for it bc i am literally so obsessed with these. they're so skk-coded all of them. so please enjoy my half-alive rambling under the cut <3

It's harder than he realized, this task of being human. So many take it for granted, or maybe they're just stronger than him, it's never been clear.

"I shouldn't have been born," he whispers, thick and heavy words pressed into his lover's chest.

That's what it all came down to, right? No matter what, he had once been born. And maybe that's what caused this. The catalyst of a birth that should never have been, something that wasn't quite human, a vessel built and "born" and meant to destroy. Matter crumbling beneath uncaring fingers, blood twisting up broken arms, screams echoing through a hollow throat.

"There are times when I think that," he sighs. His lover holds him tighter. Cold relief stretches through him during times like this, letting him forget the burning of his own inhumanity. These are the only times he truly feels human—when the power that lives in him is silent. What he was born for. Is it wrong? To crave the loss? To desire nothing more than to have no meaning?

"I know." It's spoken into his hair, soft and gentle and everything that he has never been. "I know." It's said not as in I know you feel that way, but as in I know how you feel.

Neither of them are built for comfort. Neither of them were born with love in their hearts. But both of them clawed into each other, forced each other to figure out how to create it. In the wake of their inhumanity, they both forged humanity in each other.

I should never have been born, Chuuya thinks, clinging tighter to his lover. But if I hadn't been, would Dazai still be here? Has it been worth it?

[yaekiss]

hearing about how many students/peers my age actually use chatgpt is terrifying