Tumgik
#AND I'M WRITING IT AGAIN
lazylittledragon · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about
7K notes · View notes
frownyalfred · 1 year
Text
I love the headcanon that none of the Bats are supers, but over time? Gotham is slowly messing them up, one by one.
Bruce smiles at Clark one day in the Cave, and his eyes reflect the light back like a wolf's
Jason suddenly has tiny fangs, but nobody has the nerve to mention it
Alfred literally doesn't die
Dick can jump higher and faster than ever before, but barely notices it
Tim is awake for three days straight and doesn't blink
They're all subtly, but noticeably different. Gotham-blessed, or cursed, or something in between.
26K notes · View notes
Tumblr media
posting this with absolutely no context
2K notes · View notes
Text
i'm unwell!!! because in stede's eyes, ned low was right!! ned says "he [ed] only likes you because of your bumbling amateur status" and calls stede blackbeard's "pet" just like izzy did in series 1
so stede steps up as a captain, kills the man who harmed his crew, and suddenly, for once in stede's life, he isn't a joke! the gentleman pirate is taken seriously and welcomed into the pirate community!
and what happens less than 24 hours later? ed calls their night together a mistake, AND LEAVES.
yes, obviously the situation is more nuanced, and these old men are once again struggling to communicate, but i 100% understand why stede went a bit of the rails at the end of episode 7. stede's been so focused on trying to help ed, that he's completely ignored his own ongoing identity crisis and trauma, and after the incident at the academy in series 1, this meltdown was long overdue.
3K notes · View notes
misc-obeyme · 2 months
Text
MC is at the Demon Lord's Castle helping Barbatos make tea.
MC: And what exactly is in this blend?
Barbatos: *lists every ingredient*
MC: Mhm. And what are the benefits of those?
Barbatos: *details the benefits of each ingredient separately and together*
MC: Right and where exactly did you obtain this?
Barbatos: I made the blend myself. While I was able to find some of these ingredients at my usual market, I had to grow some of them myself in the gard-
MC: ?
Barbatos: MC. Why are you asking me so many questions about this tea?
MC: Oh, I just like to watch the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about something you love.
Barbatos: I see. Then you must allow me to list everything I know about you.
MC was too flustered to speak. Barbatos only chuckled and kissed away their astonishment.
Tumblr media
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
1K notes · View notes
cloudybarnes · 6 months
Text
bad idea right?
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo breaks up with you, he pledges to make things right and do anything necessary to win you back. however, you are determined to make him work if he wants to win you over again aka part two to new beginnings
Word Count: 2.3k
Masterlist
a/n: LONG AWAITED PART TWO WOOHOOOO also this could be read as a solo instead of a part two if you really wanted, but here's part one in case you wanna read that as well ;)
Tumblr media
✰  ✰  ✰
“Please don’t tell me you got back together with him!” Ginny groaned. She sat on the edge of your bed as Hermione braided your hair for the night. 
“No, I didn’t get back with him. I told him if he really wanted to prove it to me, then he could.” 
“So you’re thinking of getting back with him.” She said disapprovingly. Hermione chuckled from her seat in the bed behind you. She was working on doing dutch braids in your hair. 
“I think it’s fine, Gin,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if she’s going to jump back in bed with him.”
You waggled your eyebrows teasingly to Ginny. She gasped and swatted your shoulder. “That’s so not funny, (Y/N/N). Just because you think he’s sexy doesn’t mean you should get back with him.”
Theodore broke up with you very unexpectedly. He barely even had a reason for breaking up with you, which left you heartbroken and devastated. You were in bed for a few days, had a good cry, and then you were back. 
Theo had tried to mend the broken bond between your relationship, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take him back that easily. Your ego was high, and you knew you would be kicking yourself if something like that happened again right when you took him back. 
“Don’t worry, Ginny. If he really wants me back, he’s gonna have to work for it. He knows that.”
“Alright,” Hermione said as she tied off the end of your hair. “All finished. Your hair’s gonna look so good tomorrow.”
“Theo better be drooling when you see him,” Ginny said, “if not, I’ll give him a different reason to drool.” She made a motion of punching her fists together, insinuating she would punch him in the mouth. 
You chuckled. “Hopefully there won’t be any blood drawn. I don’t think he’d really wanna go through all the trouble if it just got him a busted lip.”
“Oh no,” Ginny grinned, “it would be more than just a busted lip. I’ve got five brothers, I’m known to throw a mean punch or two.”
“Lights out girls!” The prefect yelled as she knocked on your bedroom door. 
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you guys at breakfast. But for real, if Theo tries anything you know I’m right there for you.” 
You smiled, grateful to have a friend as awesome as her. “Yeah, Gin, I know. Thank you.” 
She smiled, “night guys.”
You two said your good nights as Hermione moved from your bed to her own. 
“What do you think he’ll do tomorrow?” You asked Hermione as she shut off the lights. You pulled the covers close to your body, waiting for her response. 
“I’m not sure,” she replied, getting comfy in her own bed. “Hopefully something sweet. He’s got a lot of making up to do if he wants to get back on our good side.”
You smiled softly, “yeah, you’re right. Night, ‘Mione.”
“Goodnight.”
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning at breakfast, the owl dropped a letter in front of you.
“What’s that?” Ron asked, his mouth filled with food. 
Ginny slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Honestly, you act like you were raised in a barn.”
“We were raised in the same house, you know.” He pointed. 
“What a shame that was,” she replied. 
You chuckled at their banter, and ripped open the seal on the letter. 
“What’s it say?” Hermione asked. 
You scanned over the words before you read them aloud. “It says,
(Y/N), 
I hope you know how much you mean to me. I was a fool to break things off with you. I only hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. 
Forever yours,
Theo”.
“Forever yours?” Ginny squealed. “That is so romantic.” 
Hermione raised her brow quizzically. “Weren’t you the one telling her not to get back with him?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “I can have mixed feelings about this. He breaks her heart but then he writes her a love letter. It’s got me confused, okay?” 
You chuckled. “I think it’s cute. It’s not gonna win me back, but it was an alright effort.”
“Oooh, what a burn,” Harry chuckled. “Poor bloke must’ve forgot how stubborn you are.”
You shook your head with a smile, “nah, he didn’t forget. If I know anything about Theo, he’s just getting started.”
“So, (Y/N/N),” Ron said, “do you want to get back with him or what’s going on with this?”
You shrugged. “I mean, obviously I still love him. It just sucks what he did and I don’t think he should be able to get off the hook that easily. He shouldn’t be forgiven for breaking my heart just because he writes a little letter.”
“I love you for that,” Ginny said as she nodded her head. 
“Hey, (Y/N/N).”
Looking behind you, you could see Enzo give a sheepish smile and a small wave. 
You grinned, “Hey Enzo, how are you? Sorry about yesterday, by the way, Theo’s a little crazy sometimes.”
He chuckled and awkwardly rubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But, yeah, no, Theo and I are all good. He apologized last night and told me all about his plans to woo you.”
You chuckled with a roll of your eyes. “Go figure.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled, “anyway, I just wanted to come by and resume how we were before, you know, the whole break up thing, and drop off this book I think you’ll like.” 
Enzo pulls out a book from his satchel and hands it to you. 
“Coraline?” You asked as you flip it around and skim over the synopsis. 
“Yeah, it’s kind of spooky and psychological which I think you’ll really enjoy.”
You grinned up at him, “that’s perfect. Thank you, Enzo.” 
He sent a tight lipped smile, and nodded before turning away and walking back to the slytherin table. 
“I like Enzo,” Ginny said with a dreamy look on her face. 
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go get him then. He’s a sweetie.” 
“You guys and those Slytherin boys,” Ron shakes his head with a scoff. “Not even that cute, I’ll tell ya.”
“Oh, what?” Ginny asked sassily, “like you’re cute?”
“I think Ron’s cute,” Hermione winked at her boyfriend. 
“Ugh, barf,” Ginny said. 
The bell rang. You all stood to gather your things for first class. 
“We’ll see you guys later,” you smiled as Hermione and you walked out to your shared first class. 
“That was a pretty cute letter,” Hermione said as the two of you started walking down the hall. 
“Yeah, I think it was sweet, but like I said, he can’t win me back that eas-“
“Excuse me?” Someone tapped your shoulder. 
Stopping, you and Hermione turned to see a younger Slytherin boy, presumably a first year, standing before you. 
“Uh, yes?” You asked confused, “do you need help with something?”
“Um, Theodore says I have to carry your satchel and books for you.” The first year stood awkwardly. 
“Oh, uh, that’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You blushed, a little embarrassed that Theo would make a first year cater to you. 
“I have to.” He said adamantly. “Theodore said he’ll set me up with this hot girl I like if I carry your books for you.” 
Hermione snickered from next to you. You turned back to her, a bewildered smile on your face as you tried not to laugh.  
“Well,” you said as you handed the young boy your satchel. “I can’t be the one to stop your true love, now can I?”
The boy grinned as he held on to your satchel as well as his. 
“Theodore is crazy,” Hermione remarks as you continue walking to your next class. The boy followed behind the two of you all the way to your first period. 
As soon as your classroom came into view, you could see Theodore standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He grinned a devilish thing as he saw you approach. 
“I’ll meet you in there,” Hermione said with a knowing smirk. 
You walked up to Theo. He was beautiful as ever, but even he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere. 
“Hi (Y/N).” He smiled at you then turned to the kid. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll have my guys put in a good word with Maizy for you.”
The kid nodded his head and smiled as he ran off. 
Theo threw your satchel over his shoulder and held out the beautiful assortment of flowers towards you. “For you, to say I’m sorry for being a douchebag and an idiot and a stupid motherfucker. All in the words of Draco by the way. Never knew how much he liked us together.” 
You chuckled and grabbed the flowers out of Theo’s hand. “Thank you.”
He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, have you thought about what I said yesterday?” 
You sighed. “Of course I’ve thought about it Theo. Just like I’ve thought about how much you broke my heart when you dumped me.”
“Okay, I deserved that.” 
You chuckled. “Yeah. Thank you for the flowers, Theo. And… I still care about you, I just need time to figure this all out. I can’t just forgive you that fast when you broke my heart, just  last week!”
Theo sighed, “I know. I know! Fuck! I know I fucked up, baby, but I am going to do everything I can to win you back. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes, baby, I swear it to do. The boys are down my back yelling at me for how hard I screwed everything up. They think I’m stupid, and I think I’m stupid too for letting you go. I promise you, I will do everything it takes for you to trust me again, mi amore.”
Your eyes softened. Theo knew exactly how to make your heart soar. 
“Theo…” 
“No, baby,” he shook his head. “You take your time. I’m gonna be here whenever you decide if you want to forgive me or not. Hopefully you decide you do want to forgive me.” He chuckled awkwardly. 
You matched his awkward laugh. “Well, thanks again for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” 
Theo smiled and nodded before turning around and walking away. 
✰  ✰  ✰
Later that night, you sat in the library studying for your Herbology final. Ginny and Hermione offered to help you study, but you knew you’d be here too late to want to burden them. 
As you flipped through the pages of your herbology book, you tried your best to take down any notes that you thought would be important. 
Your stomach growled. 
“Knew that was inevitable.” 
When you looked up from your textbook, you could see Theo sheepishly smiling as he held two trays from the cafeteria. 
“What was?” You asked with a smile. You cleared some papers to make space for Theo to sit down. 
He grinned and placed the trays on the table as he took his seat next to you. 
“Knew you would forget to eat while you studied for this exam.” 
You chuckled and peered over to see what Theo brought you to eat. Ham, potatoes, and stuffing from the dining hall. 
“Thank you, Theo. That’s really sweet of you.” 
He slid a tray closer to you, and you eagerly picked up the provided fork and dug in. 
Theo chuckled as you scarfed down your food. “Pretty hungry?”
You nodded as you finished chewing. Theo smiled to himself and started to take a few bites of his potatoes. 
“You’re being awfully sweet to me, Theo.” 
“Haven't I always been sweet to you, darling?”
“Well, yes. But that was before.”
Theo sighed. “I know I screwed up royally. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I’m still the same boy I was just a few months ago. I had a lapse in judgment and that cost me the best thing in my life.”
You frowned. “Theo…”
“Don’t you miss me, (Y/N/N)?” Theo shifted to face you straight on. He nervously leaned forward on the table, staring into your eyes, waiting for your response. 
“…of course I miss you, Theo. How could I not? You’re everything to me, and I’m just so scared of something like that happening again.”
“(Y/N),” Theo started. He tentatively grabbed your hands in his. “I promise you, with everything in me, if you decide to take me back I will never hurt you or disappoint you ever again. You have my word mi amore.” 
You were conflicted. You miss Theo like crazy. You couldn’t help it. No matter what you said to your friends about him having to work hard for you, it tore you apart every time you saw him knowing you still weren’t together. You missed being his. 
“Okay,” you said. 
“Okay?” Theo’s face lit up. “You-you’re giving me another chance?”
“Yeah,” you softly smiled, “I miss my boy.”
Theo grinned and yanked you toward him, engulfing you in a hug—one you’ve been waiting days for. You missed him. You missed being held by him. 
You held around his neck tightly, scared to let go. You never realize how much you craved his touch when it was gone.  
Theo buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. “God, I’ve missed you.” 
You smiled and pulled back. Theo smiled back at you. Slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a warm, longing kiss. Your hands rested on his cheeks, his on your waist as you kissed with all the love stored up between you. 
When he pulled away, Theo stayed close with his forehead rested against yours. “I promise you baby, I’m here for good.” 
“You better be.” 
2K notes · View notes
becca-e-barnes · 10 months
Note
I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.
Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy
But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.
You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.
"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.
"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.
There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.
Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.
He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.
"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."
That's got your attention.
You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.
You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.
Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.
"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."
He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.
He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.
When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.
"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.
4K notes · View notes
metalhoops · 1 year
Text
Steve’s party trick was appearing sober long past the point of inebriation. 
It was an act he’d perfected through observation. He’d watched his mother down wine like water and waltz into a garden party looking sober as a saint. So when everything went down at the Starcourt Mall, with the drugs and the appearance of another burgeoning concussion-induced migraine fogging the edges of his vision, he’d pushed through with professional tact. 
Steve couldn’t explain how it happened. One moment he was sitting on the kitchen counter, cradling a bag of frozen peas to his bare face, freezer burn nipping at the edges of his consciousness, and the next he was sprawled out on the carpet of a stranger’s house. 
What happened in between, he’d never know. 
Maybe it was for the best. Ignorance was bliss, in Steve’s opinion. His life was so much easier before the Upside Down. He would’ve been a worse person and lived a worse life. Yet his life would’ve been close to normal, not the mercurial mess it’d become.  He wouldn’t have spent the night locked in a secret underground soviet bunker, his face doubling as a punching bag for a man he didn’t know, while monsters roamed about the town. 
The mall had burned down, Steve remembered. After all was said and done, Mrs Byers dropped him and Robin off at their respective homes. Steve insisted he didn’t need to go to the hospital, that he was fine and, more importantly, that his parents were home. When Robin sobered up, she’d realise Steve had lied.
He’d told Robin a lot of things, and after the night in the mall, so had she. She knew Steve’s parents had been out of town for months, but she’d been flying too high to use any of her admittedly brilliant brain to put two and two together. Steve loved Robin. He loved her differently after that night, but he still loved her. He was human. He needed time to lick his wounds and some space. The quiet of the Harrington house had seemed like a blessing, so where the hell was he now?
“Hey, what did you take?” A vaguely familiar voice shook Steve from his stupor. 
He rolled away from the sound, burying his face in the carpet. He cringed as a  spark of pain shot through the veiled numbness that’d inhabited his body since the Russian drugs had hijacked his system. 
“Ouch,” Steve grumbled miserably. 
His head throbbed. One eye was entirely swollen shut. Even if Steve was sober, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to place the boy through his hazy vision. All he could make out were colours, pale skin, dark hair, and darker clothes. 
“I know. I know. You’ve got a real shiner, Harrington. Come on, up,” the boy instructed. 
Steve felt cool skin graze against the nape of his neck, pulling him up into a sitting position. Steve remained boneless, not making the task easy. 
He felt separate from his body, not sure where he ended and the rest of the world began. Once pulled up, he kept falling forward, his face making contact with the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt. The boy was more comfortable than the floor, with less carpet burn and more smooth leather. He smelled of smoke, sweat and an earthy kind of cologne that hadn’t been refreshed in hours.
“Elevator up,” Steve chuckled, laughing too hard for his own good. 
His ribs ached. He felt a laugh shudder through the boy’s body as he pulled Steve back, trying to get a better look at him. He held a finger in front of Steve’s face. 
“Not sure what this is meant to do but I’ve seen it in movies,” the boy commented as he moved his finger right to left, inspecting Steve’s face for something, neither boy was quite sure of. 
“Alright. You’ve gotta know I’m the least likely person to narc on you, Harrington. What did you take? Special K? Some Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds? Were you Chasing the Dragon? Gotta be something stronger than weed, man,” the boy insisted. 
Steve screwed up his nose and moved away from the man. 
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Steve complained, trying to untangle the string of words the guy had thrown his way. 
Steve staggered to his feet, swaying before propping himself up, leaning against the wall, and feeling the whole thing tilt under his weight. 
“Dude, your walls are broken,” Steve muttered, as his legs gave out and he slid down to the floor. 
“We’re in a trailer, Steve,” the boy pointed out. Steve looked around the place, trying to make shapes from the blurs of colour and light. 
“Oh yeah,” He noted before resting his chin on his knee. 
The boy sat down in front of him, mirroring Steve’s posture, his chin resting on the bare knees of his ripped jeans. 
“Do you know what you took?” He pushed on, this time taking a different approach. 
“No,” Steve admitted, at last, sliding forward. 
The boy’s rings had caught his attention. They were little halos of light. He curiously tugged at his hand, pulling him close to examine the shine. He ran his fingers over the rise and fall of the rings. 
“Okay,” the dark-haired boy breathed, seemingly to himself. 
“I think you need to go to the hospital, dude.” 
“No hospitals,” Steve remarked eloquently as he returned to his previous position, face down on the carpet, taking the boy's hand with him. 
“Yeah well, I’m not so sure I like the idea of you sleeping either, Stevie,” He reasoned, his voice sounding strangled.   
“I’m tired,” Steve rebutted, his eyes sliding shut. 
There the boy was again, taking Steve’s face into his palm and pulling him up. For a moment, the vision in his good eye cleared enough to make out brown eyes painted with concern. 
“Look, I know we hated each other’s guts in high school but I don’t want you to O.D. on my carpet. It’s not good for the ambience,” the boy continued. 
Steve squinted, trying to place the face. Sure, he’d been a jerk in high school, particularly before his senior year, but he didn’t remember hating anyone. Not really. Maybe Jonathan, for a time, but that had passed. 
Munson. Steve’s brain supplied at last. The boy was Eddie Munson. He sold drugs and hung out on the fringes of Steve’s bigger parties back in the peak of his ‘King Steve’ era. 
“You hated me?” Steve asked, hearing the hurt in his voice before he realised what he was feeling. Eddie’s eyes widened in alarm, Steve’s face still in his palm. 
“What? No. I thought you hated me. I mean, you were a jock and I’ve got my whole ‘fuck the man shtick’, so it wasn’t like we ran in the same circles,” Eddie elaborated. 
“Jocks are ‘the man’?” Steve questioned. He’d like to blame the drugs, but he’d probably ask the question sober. 
“No. Yes. Kind of. Jocks are like... the grease for a cog in the wheel of the machine. All mass compliance to societal norms... or whatever.” 
Steve blinked owlishly at Eddie, trying to make a lick of sense out of what he’d said before resigning himself to the fact that he was completely lost. 
“I like Grease. It’s a cool movie,” he settled on, startling another laugh out of Eddie. He gently lowered Steve’s face onto the carpet and sighed. 
“Yeah, it’s a cool movie,” he muttered, leaving Steve for a moment, tossing sheets and a pillow from the sofa to the floor beside him. 
“Look, I’m going to stay up and make sure you don’t choke on your own tongue. You can stay here for the night, but I’m not letting you crash until my uncle gives you the thumbs up, weirdo.” 
Eddie slid a cushion beneath Steve’s head and draped the sheet over him. Steve was bone tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but the pain in his body was growing by the moment and less favourable memories were leaking back into the forefront of his mind. He watched as Eddie placed a tape into the VCR and sat down beside Steve. It took him too long to realise the film was Grease. 
“Who’d you get into a fight with this time?” Eddie asked, seemingly aware of Steve’s sudden restlessness. 
Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. 
“Were the drugs before or after?” He pushed, searching for something Steve couldn’t work out.
Again, Steve didn’t know how to answer. Once more, Eddie let it slide. 
“You want me to call anyone? A girlfriend... or?” He doesn’t mention Steve’s parents. 
Maybe he was at more parties than Steve remembered, enough to know that the Harringtons being in Hawkins was rarer than a blue moon, less frequent than even Steve would admit to. 
“No,” Steve grumbled, starting to feel the swelling in his lip. 
Eddie nodded and let Steve have his silence. He half paid attention to the flashing lights on the screen, fading in and out of consciousness. Eddie would gently elbow his side each time Steve almost reached sleep. It was a long night, broken only by the opening of a door come sunrise. 
The light was too bright, too sudden. Steve shrunk from it curling into the closest point of dark comfort. Steve realised too late he’d curled himself into a small ball, tucking his face into the familiar darkness provided by Eddie’s crossed legs. 
“What in the Sam Hill have you gotten into, kid?” Steve heard a gruff voice ask in the doorway. Despite his words, the man didn’t sound angry, more amused. 
Steve felt Eddie pull the sheets up to hide his broken face from the light. 
“You know when I was fourteen, and I brought home that stray cat?” Eddie asked. 
Steve heard a door shutting and the scrape of a dining chair sliding against the linoleum. 
“The one that was sick as a dog?” The gruff voice replied. Probably Eddie’s uncle. 
“Same situation,” Eddie spoke.
“You’re telling me you found a kid wanderin’ round the trailer park at night and thought you’d bring him home? You remember what happened to that cat, right?” His uncle asked. 
“He went missing after a week. Then we found him half-kickin’ curled up in the back seat of the Johnsons’ cinder-blocked Austin,” Eddie muttered, stating the words as though it were a conversation Eddie and his uncle had before.  
“And you didn’t leave your room for a week.” 
“Your point, old man?” Eddie remarked.
“My point is, I love you, kid. But sometimes your bleeding heart is more trouble than it’s worth.” 
To Steve’s surprise, the sheet was pulled off his head. The next thing he knew he was face to face with Eddie’s uncle. The man shone a torch in Steve’s eyes, echoing Eddie’s movements, placing a finger in front of his eyes. Eddie watched in silence at Steve’s side. 
“He’s got a pretty bad concussion,” Eddie’s uncle supplied after a beat. 
“He was on something when I found him,” Eddie said. 
Steve was getting sick of people talking about him like he wasn’t there but in the same vein, he wanted to convalesce in peace. Eddie’s uncle shot him a sceptical look.
“Nothing I gave him, promise. He’s not letting me take him to the hospital.” 
“He’s right here,” Steve interjected.
He watched as Eddie’s uncle levelled him under his intense gaze. For the first time since he’d entered the room, he wasn’t seeing symptoms, or a problem Eddie had dropped in his lap but a boy. A kid, in Wayne’s eyes, one that looked worse for wear. It was the goddamn cat all over again. 
“I’m going to get you water and some aspirin. Eds, get some rest. No buts, kid you look like you haven’t slept a wink. Should also be safe enough for you to try to get some shut-eye, boy. I’m not Eddie, you can’t bat your eyes at me and get your way. I’m taking you to the hospital if anything happens, right?” 
Steve looked at the man with narrowly masked surprise before giving him a weak nod. He couldn’t imagine his parents doing the same, not even for one of Steve’s friends, let alone a stranger. 
“Come on, you can sleep in my room,” Eddie uttered, springing to his feet with a joviality that someone who’d gone twenty-four hours without sleep shouldn’t be able to muster. 
Steve blinked, slowly standing and gathering the sheets around himself, acutely aware of how ridiculous he looked. 
“Keep the door open,” Wayne called at their retreating backs. 
That was how Steve spent the summer of ‘85 hauled up and healing at the Munsons’ trailer. A few months later, he’d return the favour. When Eddie went missing, Wayne knew where to look. 
5K notes · View notes
gothwineaunts · 1 month
Text
Oofh. The hate in the comments. It's starting to get to me. I've been trying to ignore it for a long time now, but like they literally want one of the romantic leads to disappear. So many people. They just hate her. Like not even "love to hate her." Just despise her enough to call her slurs and pray for her death. In a wlw.
I must have really fucked this up, I think.
655 notes · View notes
egophiliac · 8 months
Text
so on the subject of the "Crowley is secretly Revaan/Laverne/Levin/please Twst give us his name" theory, I think my feelings are best summed up as "I don't really buy it, but it's funny". like, in all seriousness, I'm not opposed to it; I have enjoyed the writing in Twst so far and I'm willing to trust that whatever happens will, you know, make sense and not be terrible. but I'm just not really convinced by the current evidence! maybe that'll change once we learn more, we'll see!
with that said, may I propose a few alternate theories about the possible Crowley/Revaan connection:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#on this installment of things nobody asked but i'm going to talk about anyway#disclaimer that this is mostly a joke please don't get mad at me#(legit no shade to anyone) (speculation is one of the fun things about an ongoing fandom and you never know what'll turn out to be true!)#more seriously i do think there may be some connection that just isn't clear yet#but the more little breadcrumbs we get about what revaan was like the more i think crowley just doesn't act like him#i adore crowley don't get me wrong#(yes he's a dipshit. this is a feature not a bug.)#but like.#not to harp on the scene about lilia's nrc invitation (i am absolutely going to harp on it)#i do not believe that crowley would go through the trash to fish out the pieces and put them back together and save them#just because it was lilia's. just because lilia might want it again someday.#crowley can ✨yasashii✨ all he wants but we know what he's like#and i REALLY do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him. i didn't believe it before and i extra don't believe it now.#then again i do tend to be incredibly off about speculation so! who knows! i will trust the writing for now!#i do 100% believe that meleanor would fall in love with the world's biggest dumbass and then double down super hard. that part tracks.#that said i have decided that ambrose being revaan is actually the funnier option just because it would make crowley SO mad#it wouldn't make sense for him to be mad about it and that would just make him madder
3K notes · View notes
dumplingsjinson · 7 months
Text
It starts with Character B kissing their cheek, the corner of their mouth, their jaw, down to their neck. Soft, soft pecks, all innocent; light touches of their lips to Character A's skin.
And then—
"I like it when you kiss my neck," Character A admits when Character B pulls away to look at them. Character B lets the confession linger in the air for no longer than a second before they take that as a sign to trail even more kisses down their neck, lips attaching to their neck in almost an instant.
Character A tilts their head back for easier access, letting out hushed sighs and soft moans and gasps as Character B trails open-mouthed kisses down their neck, hand on the nape of their neck to pull Character B impossibly closer; unable to get enough of them no matter what.
This spurs Character B on even more — excites them, even — as they pull the collar of their shirt down to trail more open-mouth kisses on their exposed skin; resists the temptation to leave marks on an empty canvas; presses themselves flush against Character A, leaving no space between them untouched.
Their legs are tangled together, Character A's fingers are in Character B's hair, Character B has Character A pressed against the bed, body against body.
And it's addicting, in very different ways for the both of them (but also to an extent, in the same ways).
"Fuck," Character A lets out in a rushed breath when Character B pulls away to look at them and Character B grins, leaning down to leave a soft, lingering kiss on their lips.
1K notes · View notes
loumands · 7 months
Text
Israel is going to completely block the supply of food, water, electricity and fuel to Gaza as it prepares for the ground invasion and likely occupation of the area. This is going to be a massive humanitarian catastrophe similar to the siege of Mariupol last year except even worse because Mariupol was a wealthy city that had resources and international support that Gaza and Palestine in general don't have. Several countries have in fact announced they're going to pause giving development and humanitarian aid to Palestine when most Palestinians are directly dependent on it. Tens of thousands of people may die and it's just going to be allowed to happen with widespread apathy or active encouragement
1K notes · View notes
esteljune · 17 days
Text
Imagine being on the couch with Soap, his body entrusted to you without hesitation.
His crested head resting against your sternum, his broad back pressed against your stomach as the boy's calloused hands cling to your thighs.
Despite being together for a while, Johnny is still nervous to talk to you about his work because there's not much he can tell you, and he's afraid that even that little bit might push you away from him.
He doesn't doubt his own conviction, but he knows it's a choice that doesn't belong to you. He manages to spit out some information about his explosives training, his sniper training, and why they call him Soap.
When he realizes that you don't care whether he's Johnny or Soap, but that he'll always be safe with you, he can't hold back his tongue. He feels a million things, some he's never felt before, others he wouldn't even know how to name.
"Would ye believe me if I told ye I've never been as nervous in front of a bomb as I am now talking about my work tae ye?" he confesses impulsively.
"Yes. Your heart is racing, Johnny." you smile tapping your index finger on his left chest.
"Ah... Away n' bile yer heid." he curses under his breath, because it's true.
He manages to control his breathing and heartbeat long enough to put a bullet in someone's head from dozens of meters away, but he can't control himself in front of a simple conversation with you.
641 notes · View notes
misc-obeyme · 3 months
Text
MC: *summons Lucifer to their house in the human world right when he's in the middle of something*
Lucifer: This had better be important.
MC: Can you change the batteries in my smoke detector? I’m afraid of ladders.
Lucifer: You are a sorcerer, MC. Didn’t Solomon teach you a spell that would help you with this?
MC: Yeah, he taught me how to summon you.
Lucifer: …
Technically MC was right & Lucifer decided he would rather indulge them than argue with them about it further. Thus the mighty Lucifer spent an evening changing smoke detector batteries.
Tumblr media
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
1K notes · View notes
lolottes · 4 months
Text
Ida is Constantine's good ex.
They separated on good terms after a few months because Ida wanted to start a family and not Constantine (for obvious reasons). Then, despite Ida's efforts to keep in touch as a long-distance friend, she quickly no longer received any news from him.
So when she sees him barely older and seeming lost in his town… she takes him for a ghost who has retained a very human appearance. She rushes to him because she is surely not the only one to notice the presence of a “tourist” in town.
She takes a minute to pity him and apologize. He hadn't ignored him, he was dead!!! Then start explaining to him why as a ghost it's not safe for him here even though it's very nice of him to visit <3
Constantine had not informed Ida about magic, after all it was one of his exes from before his cancer (a little near the time when he stopped responding to her) and his first triple sale of soul for escape death. But he knows Ida well enough not to contradict her. In addition, she gives him all the information in flash notes that he is looking for.
Okay, he also missed Ida. It felt SO strange to see her old. But she apparently hadn't lost anything from a mental point of view
This is how Constantine was invited to have tea and catch up on lost time at Ida's in addition to having a more complete debrief of the Amity Park situation
755 notes · View notes
actual-changeling · 5 months
Text
i crave the emotional catharsis that would come with crowley taking care of his plans, in so much pain but swallowing it down and pretending it's not real, finally having the mental breakdown he deserves.
he's taking care of his plants, a detached look on his face, misting them and making sure they're all healthy and have enough space to grow. after he returned, he stopped talking to them for the most part. they welcomed him back, they had missed him—shax is not the nicest or most interesting company to keep—and now they're worried.
crowley sleeps, paces, mists his plants, gets drunk, and sleeps some more. everything to stop feeling. until he sees a leaf spot on one of them. a tiny imperfection, barely worth a shout, and yet.
a tremor works it way through him, his knees always giving out, and he presses one palm against the wall to keep himself upright. wave after wave of shame, bright and stabbing in the middle of his chest, reminds him why he left.
not good enough.
crowley had tried, someone knows he tried. it's hard to regain a soul, harder yet to shape it into something worth loving, someone worth living for, but he had tried.
his fingers curl around the pot and before he can stop himself he flings it across the room, listening to it shatter. can't even do that right, can he? can't raise fucking plans, can't keep his STUPID mouth shut, can't make him stay because who would want to be stuck with him forever? no one, that's who, and after six thousand years, aziraphale had seemingly reached his blessed limit and taken the first chance to leave.
another plant follows with a scream, dirt and broken stems covering the floor and staining the walls, and then another and another and another until he can fall to his knees amidst the ruins of his life.
clay shards are cutting his palms open as he doubles over, sobs wrecking through him like thunder, and his tears carve clean paths down his dirty hands.
"i tried," he whispers, voice hoarse from yelling, "i'm sorry, i tried."
crowley's wings unfurl with an almost silent gust of air, blacking out the sunlight streaming in. he drags himself to the nearest corner before wrapping his arms and wings around himself, and curling up as tightly as possible.
"i tried," he keeps breathing into feathers and fabric, "i tried, i tried, i tried."
over and over until his voice fails him and then some more. it is almost a lullaby, the words taking whatever is left of his heart and gently rocking it back and forth. crowley falls asleep like that, exhausted and broken and lonely. just as sleep pulls him under, he stops his repetition, his mouth shaping phrase after phrase.
for the very first time since his fall, crowley closes his eyes and prays.
643 notes · View notes