#im gonna die with that fic

[s4turn-ly]

And more from six feet over by caramelsuguru in A03!

THIS FIC MAKE'S ME FEEL SO SOFT OKAY??? CUTE CUTE CUTE

#fan art #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu #gojo x geto #jujutsu kaisen #my art #jjk #goge #im crying #im so normal about them #i need more fics abour college au or i gonna die

[grandwretch]

i do think peak comedy is a steve who is absolutely aware of the effect he has on people, but has never felt that way towards anyone else-- the closest he got was with nancy and robin, because he loved them both in different ways, and sometimes he felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't talk to them or touch them right now, but it was never like he had seen other people act about him. robin and nancy made him a better person. they didn't drive him to ridiculous levels of violence and obsession. maybe people in hawkins were just fucking weird.

and then he meets eddie, falls in love with eddie, and he's like... yeah, okay. alright. no, i get it. if anything happened to this guy i would steal the nuclear launch codes.

#steddie #jgkfldgj separate fic idea where everyone is talking about their best murder ideas as like a joke #nancy has a gun she's been thinking about longingly eddie's is dramatic argyle's is disturbingly competent etc #and steve is just like how many of the government officials that we know do you think i would have to fuck to get access to the nukes #idk steve is the epitome of go big or go home To Me #like he's always the one put in situations and then he commits to the bit a thousand percent and is way more extra about it than everybody #he hit billy with a fucking car . do u get that #nancy was like im gonna shoot at him like a normal person in an action film #and steve was like oh the vehicle im currently in? before airbags were invented? im gonna send it full speed into that guy #as you fucking do #the only one in the upside down mostly naked and shoeless btw #like ???? do u think this is die hard u bitch bc that hasnt come out yet #what was i talking about its 2 am

[echo-stimmingrose]

I desperately need to see a scene at camp where they are accusing Clarisse of being the thief. THE TENSION!! THE DRAMA!!! She has no idea what the fuck their talking about but of course they believe Luke over her cause he's the camp golden boy. I need her yelling at everyone who doesn't believe her! (Dionysus included by the way, she absolutely would yell at him too) AND I want to see her be like "I fucking told you so!" after they find out it's Luke.

AND this would give her such a good reason to hate the trio like we already know she does.

#clarrise defender until i die #if we dont see this im gonna have to write a fic about it. #you what. fuck it. i might write a fic with this before the next episode comes out anyway. #as my bestie knows very well. i LOVE the frame job trope. #dior goodjohn #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #clarrise la rue #luke castellan #pjo tv spoilers #pjo tv series #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers

[heliianth]

every day i get more upset that “i think i found the ultimate lifeform / i think it may be you” line (and sonic’s subsequent pondering about it) gets IGNORED they DROPPED THAT SHIT like a HOT POTATO & i understand why because the sonic heroes tone pivot and the amnesia plot but u dont understand im so mentally ill over the concept of shadow completely shedding this massive huge important part of his identity onto sonic before dying and sonic having to grapple with that. what does he do with that. he doesnt want that kind of title or responsibility or idea of himself, hes just a guy who likes adventure. but shadow gave it to him happily. & when shadow comes back and is basically affirmed in his previous assumption that whatever he would do with it, sonic is already doing. only to be met with sonic giving it back to him like “hey buddy thanks for letting me borrow it but i dont want it ;^-^”. what do you mean you don’t want to be the ultimate lifeform? ITS TOO GODDAMN HOT IN THIS GODDAMN HOUSE i need to kill something. U UNDERSTAND RIGHT. U UNDERSTAND.

#im SO UNWELL ABOUT THIS #i need to write something abt it but like the type of character exploration/arc i think this would prompt #would require such a long fucking fic #and it would be so boring and contrived without like. a plot as well #like what the hell do i do with this. its just gonna stay there forever #same thing with my 06 fix for silvers arc #i need to die #heliichats

[gammija]

ok since the Magnus Protocol is confirmed AU from tma, and jonny and alex have purposely not said that their voices are not reappearing in TMAGP, consider:

evil AU jon and martin. mostly because I just know jonny and alex would have such a good time acting that out. And also because i want to see a completely unhinged jon and a web!martin used to their full potential damnit

#they're au! so its fine! and also fun! #you get to decide what entity Jon ends up with (eye or not) but im claiming martin for web. gimme. #tmagp #tma #tmu #jonathan #martin #web!martin #why do a sidequel of a horror podcast if youre just gonna give a lil office romance easter egg. yawn/j #joos yaps #im still mulling it over #love that its an AU but i then do actually want au versions of jmart and others #not our jmart ending up in the AU and us catching up with them via Sam and Alice #cause thatd mess with that whole 'ah did they die or not' thing plus. there are too many amazing fanfics that they can't top #tma is still one of the only shows where I genuinely havent read a lot of fic which ks better written/constructed than the source #(ive mostly read fics for mediocre shows i am aware) #but the specific flavor of 'blorbos coming into a new world and learning to cope' is one i don't think they'd be able to capture as nicely #also. they deserve a rest. #but their au counterparts are fresh and ripe for the picking 😈

[kiraman]

Her hands are rough. She always marvels a little over that, when they’re lying together amid the rich silks and linens of her bed. Her hands are rough—calloused where a sword would sit in her palm, scarred from old burns and older fights. She wears it around her eyes too, a short life lived hard, with all its ghosts and old blood. She looks older than she ought to, cut out of stone: cold; hard; stolid; like shards of glass—like a blade, sharpened, the last thing men see before darkness falls— but when she presses her mouth — slick and soft, sweet with lipstick— to her neck, Mizu warms under her touch, becomes liquid; she flows, grasps at her waist softly, delicately, as though afraid she'll somehow break her.

I am not made of glass, Mizu she says, a little abashed, the first time she kisses her, gathers her face into her hands and sinks her teeth into the curve of her lower lip, hungry, desperate for her mouth her hands her smell, her her her — god, she wants her — and Mizu gasps, a sharp, low sound torn from her throat, and draws back, touches her as though she's never touched something this fragile before; unmarred by death. Clean. Pure. Hers.

I shall not break.

She traces the cross mark, the little black dot inked into the inside of her arm,  feels the heat of her body seeping through the silks of her dress, her pulse throbbing beneath her skin.

She does not understand Mizu when she murmurs in that detached, cool voice, like riverwater, flowing darkly through her, I can't - I can't... when her hands rise to caress her neck anyway, despite her protestations, her thumb, rough, made hard from all the blood they've spilled, rubbing against her throat, with such gentleness, it makes her ache.

Hidden away, sheltered from a world brimming with death, Mizu does not crack for her - she cannot let the walls around her be torn down in the name of desire, lust, want want want - this is weakness; she tells herself, fighting against the fire that swells in her blood; this is wrong, but she does not pull away when she looks at her through the thicket of her lashes, long and dark as soot; does not shrug her off when she sits near her, presses her shoulder against hers, hungered for her attentions. She would give anything to be seen, to be known, as she is: violent; furious; hungered and empty and aching- to be wanted, in spite of it all... To be... To be. She is warm under her, around her, and that same humanity, that fragile, small thing that growls its agony inside of her, that thing that makes her, when the hour grows late and she too deep in the darkness, the softness that claws at her heart that she always taught herself to despise in her, is what draws her to this strange creature she does not deserve but has somehow made her way into her life.

She laughs; Mizu, too, does not understand her when she says Come here; let me look at you, when she laughs at her aloof detachment, her cool, stony face, how she looks away when she smirks, how her hand twitches at her side.

(Every time Mizu is gone longer than she said she would be, she panics—what if she does not come back? She is beautiful and strong, brown from the sun and scarred, flaming, why would she come back to her?)

Her hands are rough from touching a world she has never known, and she carries the smell of strange forests in her hair. She presses herself into the warmth of her body (scarred and lithe, slim yet hard with muscle) as they lay amidst the silks of her bed. You’re the only real thing I have, Mizu breathes.

She does not say anything; she does not understand her; only looks at her, as though afraid something will take her from her if she blinks. Her response is to kiss her, over-eager, warm and willing and imprecise, desiring, and, if only for tonight, that suits them both.

#blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai #mizu x fem!reader #mizu #mizu x female oc #u know what this could be any number of ships. i was so torn between making it mizu x akemi or mizu x female oc but oh well it is what it i #brainrotbrainrotbrain- #but im also gonna tag this #this doesn't end until you die. #snapshot of my canon fic b/c i can & it somehow turned into mizu x girl who does not speak japanese midway lol. #this is just ramblings i am not about to edit it or make it make sense bye :* #my writing

[spider-mancan]

Starker fuck or die

This is insane. The entire day has been one dumpster fire after another. Peter fell asleep on top of a building still in costume with his textbook spread open on his lap to the sound of a phone call. The resulting jolt of unfortunate awareness nearly sent his school books down onto the pavement — instead they just have a stain from the webbing and an extremely damaged spine. Peter answered the phone but was more interested in mourning his rental deposit than whatever threat was causing the Avengers to assemble. 

Then he heard the words Sex Demon come out of Captain America’s mouth and it was all downhill from there. Forlorn, Peter agreed to set his studying aside and come help out, because, really, when was he going to have another opportunity to sit in a room while Steve Rogers tried to talk about a Sex Demon in the debrief? 

It wasn’t nearly as fun as Peter expected. They’d called him in because he was difficult to hit and had the benefit of both long- and short-range fighting, but some of the others weren’t so lucky. By the time he arrived, Black Widow had already been removed by Hawkeye, leaving Second Hawkeye looking very purple (“nice new uniform, Kate!”) and incredibly perplexed. Steve was mostly alright, but whatever was causing problems was not reacting well to the serum.

Causing problems, of course, meant making people extremely Down to Fuck extremely quickly. 

“This is hilarious,” Peter says, swinging around the rafters. The warehouse they’re in has already been trashed, light leaking in through the roof and scaffolding collapsed in heaps on the concrete floor. “There is so much porn about this. At least two. Not that I know for sure.”

Tony comes over the comm. “I did hear Sex Pollen Sluts Go Nuts got excellent reviews.”

No one thinks this is funny at all, but Peter is too busy twisting out of harm’s way to feel bad about laughing. 

It’s not a Sex Demon, which Peter finds incredibly disappointing. It’s just a man who believes in the power of the aphrodisiac, or something, and developed yadda yadda whatever he’s trying to get blackmail of the world’s most influential people blah blah super awkward and gross and his sex blaster doesn’t even look cool at all. 

None of this is the particularly insane part.

The insane part happens about two seconds after Tony manages to topple Mr. Sex Demon over the railing and onto the ground, where the pressurized canisters on his back give way to the unforgiving asphalt and explode into a green haze so dense Peter can barely see the brilliant blue glow of the arc reactor in Tony’s chest.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter yells into the comm, without a response, and he’s swinging over to assess the damage when Captain barks orders for him to stay out of the way.

The Iron Man suit is already vacuuming up the fumes to remove the contaminant from the air, but Tony hadn’t been wearing one of his space safe suits which means there’s no internal oxygen supply, which means he’s also been contaminated. Regardless, the two men come into view and Tony just waves. “FRIDAY gives the all clear.” His voice sounds strained.

Peter drops down just behind. “Mr. Stark!”

“Spider-Man,” Steve calls, jogging over. “It’s best not to get to close—”

Peter is about to ask what Steve could possibly mean when he feels heavy hands grip his shoulders. The Iron Man gauntlets are heavy — in the armor Tony weighs nearly 400 pounds — and Peter winces. “Mr. Stark?” 

He isn’t afraid — Natasha hadn’t been dangerous. She’d stood stock still for a moment, called for assistance, and immediately removed herself. Over the phone, Captain America had run through the symptoms of the spores, but Peter can’t remember all of that now. He vaguely remembers a loss of inhibition, some kind of animalistic behavior, and an increase in body temperature to dangerous levels over time.

“Tony,” Steve says warningly. 

Iron Man’s faceplate lifts up and Tony is sweating, gritting his teeth. “I know, Cap.” His hands tighten, shaking, enough that Peter grabs one and flexes his fingers, debating whether to pry it off. “I’m trying.” Deep breath.

“Get away from the kid, Tony.” Steve pulls out his firearm and Peter is about to laugh, it’s insane, Tony would never hurt him. Touching Peter isn’t something Tony isn’t allowed to do. But when Peter goes to laugh Tony still looks so serious, so stony, almost sick. Deranged, even. Just a little.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter frowns and Tony’s eyes flutter closed, tight.

“Don’t call me that, right now, kid.”

Kate hops down from her perch in the rafters, awkwardly adjusting the quiver on her back. “I’m just gonna, uh, go.” She gestures over her shoulder to the door, which Tony blasted off the hinges not half an hour ago. “I’ll find a broom or something. Or just leave.”

Steve nods, mouth tight. His gaze doesn’t leave Tony where he’s hunched over Peter like a bad shadow, but his finger stays still on the trigger. Waiting. Not moving one way or the other.

Peter knows how these sorts of things go; if something can go wrong, it will. He runs through the data he can grapes through the confusion, tapping into Tony’s suit. Tony had been exposed to nearly twenty times the recommended dosage. Peter pulls his vitals through Karen and tries not to balk at Tony’s heart rate or internal temperature. Hot. Tony could fry an egg on his chest soon. “We need to get you out of the suit.” Peter reaches for one of the latches.

“Leave it,” Tony grunts. He’s bitten his lip so hard there’s blood in the corner of his mouth. “Better.” His hands haven’t moved, like he can’t move them, like he’s a statue. Peter is going anywhere without forcing himself free. “Better for you.”

“For me?” Peter demands. His hands are already on the gauntlet, but he freezes, struck silly by the sheer nerve. Tony is overloading and he thinks he should stay in the suit for Peter’s sake?

“I’m calling Fury.” Steve brings one hand up to his ear, gun still level. His eyes don’t leave Tony the entire time, even when he backs away slightly and starts to argue on the private channel.

Peter’s fingers tap a nervous rhythm on Tony’s armor. “Karen says you’re spiking really fast, sir,” he says at a whisper. This isn’t good for Tony’s heart, still weak, or his nervous system, which has been run ragged.

“I’m fine,” Tony chokes out through clenched teeth. His skin looks terribly gray, haggard, even. “I am really reliving some of my old glory days right now, but I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Drugs.” Peter laughs nervously. Tony’s eyes are blown, the warm brown consumed by darkness, and his gaze is heavy on Peter. The gauntlet moves now, pulling up the hem of Peter’s mask until Peter feels metal against his pulse point. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony groans.

Peter is a good kid, but he’s not a saint. He’s seen the Tony Stark sex tapes, even the ones that Tony didn’t know were being recorded. He’d been through his own moral beratement when he opened it the first time, but he’d done it several times since because they’re something about Tony that Peter can’t get enough of. And Peter has heard that groan a million times. It’s not like his enemy just punched me into a wall groan, or his this meeting could have been an email groan. It’s the groan he makes when he opens someone up with his cock for the first time. The eyes rolling back, hips stuttering kind of groan.

Peter is suddenly very hard in his jock strap. Terrible. Terrible news.

Karen is a welcome distraction in the form of more terrible news. “Mr. Stark!” The vitals displaying on Peter’s HUD are approaching dangerous levels, especially for an older, unenhanced human. “Your heart rate. It’s crazy!” 

Tony is sweating, mouth open in the face of the rising temperatures, and Peter starts to frantically start prying at the mechanisms that hold the armor together. Tony makes no move to assist. “Leave it.”

“You’re in a metal can and you’re already over 100F,” Peter tells him, as if Tony didn’t know. “You’re going to—”

He doesn’t hear Steve barking at him to stop. It doesn't strike him that it’s a bad idea until it’s too late.

Peter manages to get his nails under the ridge of the chest plate and release it, pulling back, and then suddenly he’s falling. Tony has miraculously changed his mind about the suit and decided to abandon it entirely, stepping out and using the momentum of Peter’s scrambling until they both fall prone on the ground. There’s a poof of dust as they clatter onto the warehouse floor, tangled together.

Steve looks over at them sharply and is yelling orders Peter can’t quite hear because he is too busy trying to place the way Tony is smothering him with his body. Even through Peter’s suit he feels the heat radiating off of Tony’s skin, so sweaty he’s almost slick. He smells like hard work and expensive cologne. Peter is bewildered, and he puts his hands on Tony’s chest to push him away only to freeze when he feels Tony pull up mask and lick a thick line from his collar to his ear. 

“Mr. Stark, I don’t—” Tony gets a hand between them, pushing the release on Peter’s suit until it’s loose around his body and Peter turns his head to look at Steve. “Captain, I didn’t think it was supposed to be, ah, oh.” He shudders when Tony sucks Peter’s ear into his mouth. “Mr. Stark, please. We need to get you to medical.”

“No time,” Tony mumbles against Peter’s throat. He’s cupping Peter’s groin through the suit while the other hand pulls the mask off completely. “Want you bad. God, I can’t even think. Look at you.”

“Tony.” Steve takes the safety off, conversation over the communicator set aside, and gets closer. He doesn’t want to shoot. That much is obvious — if he was going to, he would have already done it. “I said get off the kid.”

“He’s mine, Capsicle,” Tony growls. He winds his hands around Peter’s back until their chest to chest, and Peter feel the rabbiting heartbeat until it’s hard to separate whose is whose. “Get your own!” There’s the tell-tale fire up of the propulser on Tony’s palm, and then there’s a stare down between Iron Man and Captain America with a shivering Spider-Man sandwiched between.

Steve looks away first.

Peter feels a bit wild, wide-eyed, confused. Flushed and hot and not attractive at all, but Tony is near-tearing the suit off of his body and Peter is so shocked he’s barely fighting it. Cold air hits his sweaty skin where Tony is pulling it down at the neck and it feels like an electric shock. “Mr. Stark, seriously. You need to—oh.” There’s a rough hand on his cock. “Oh, my god.”

Tony has both hands on Peter again, like he’s going to reach into Peter’s chest and start pulling him apart, but the Iron Man suit is in sentry mode now; Peter hears the thunk of the boots on the ground even as he’s writhing, trying to focus past the sound of his own insane breathing. He blinks and then there is red and gold staring down the barrel of Steve’s gun.

“Need you, kid,” Tony growls in his ear, pulling down the length of him through his underwear. This was not on Peter’s bingo card for the day. “Feel like I’ll die without you.”

Maybe you will, Peter thinks hysterically.

Steve could stop this, but the gun is slowly falling lower until it’s pointed at the concrete. “Peter,” he starts, “if you give me the word, I’ll remove him and take him to quarantine until we find a willing partner.”

“Partner?” The puzzle pieces are falling into place but there has to be another picture because the one in Peter’s head isn’t making any sense. “I thought this just made you horny!”

“It sure does,” Tony mutters. He doesn’t spare Peter’s underthings nearly the same respect as the suit, but he tears Peter’s t-shirt off at the neck and spreads it open like a child opening a Christmas present. Hands splay flat over sweaty skin, feeling Peter’s rapid breathing. “I’m going to ruin you, kid.” Like he can’t hear a single thing.

“I’m not—oh, god.” Tony is heavy on top of him and his cock is hard in his sweats, thick where it’s digging into Peter’s hip. Tony readjusts and grinds them together, hard enough that Peter scrambles for purchase against Tony’s back. “Cap, I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

Tony rakes his nails down Peter’s bare chest, catching on Peter’s nipples with a satisfied smirk.

“What do you want to do?” Steve asks slowly.

Tony has such a high fever and his heart rate is dangerous and he looks at Peter and says, “you want to be a good boy for me, don’t you?” and Peter is so fucked. He’s both literally and figuratively fucked.

Like a flash of lightning, Peter remembers the call earlier: if Tony doesn’t come inside someone, he’ll overheat until he’s either cooked inside or dies from a heart attack. It had sounded kind of funny at the time, only half-paying attention.

Despite having a god among men standing not twenty feet away — oh, god, Captain America can totally see Peter’s boner right now — Tony doesn’t look away from Peter for a single moment if he can help it. Years of the revolving door love interests have made Tony extremely good with his hands. He’s often joked about it, about how good he is in bed, but Peter never actually thought he’d feel the way Tony smoothes hands over skin or bites bruises cherry red and it’s just a whole lot more than Peter expected to happen.

“I—I…oh, god.” Tony licks a line from Peter’s navel up to his chest and latches on to one of Peter’s nipples with his teeth. “I’m, I’m willing. I just—”

“Are you sure?” Steve says firmly, like Peter might be able to think straight with Tony all over him like every unfortunate wet dream he’s had since the seventh grade.

“If you don’t leave right now,” Tony says with a growl, “you’re going to get quite the show, Cap.” His eyes look clouded over, and he sits back heavy on Peter’s cock and just looks at the mess he’s made. Peter’s suit is hanging haphazardly around his hips and his shirt is ruined and his skin is bright pink. The cold wind through the holes in the walls brushes past, too cool on the spit-slick on Peter’s chest and he shudders.

“I’m okay,” Peter chants, and he lets himself reach out and touch for the first time. It’s tentative, fingertips across the scarring on Tony’s chest. “Like, what the fuck, but also I’ll be okay.”

If anyone understands that, it’s Steve, who is flushed almost as red as Peter and pivots. “I’ll guard the perimeter.”

With a grin, Tony rolls his hips so fluidly Peter whines high in his throat. “Kind of wanted to put on a show.” His cock is so hard, rutting into the dips of Peter’s stomach. “Bet he’ll watch. He just doesn’t want to admit how good you look. My perfect boy.” He grabs both sides of Peter’s head, fingers tangling in his hair so hard Peter can’t look anywhere but straight ahead.

Peter presses his hands flat. “Mr. Stark, I…” He closes his eyes tight. “What do I do? This is crazy.” Not last week Tony had been helping Peter with relationship advice, how to get a girl’s attention, clapped him on the shoulder and called him champ like he was going to take Peter to the baseball game later. “You’re…” 

The first time Tony kisses him, Peter’s brain doesn’t care about the drugged nature of it. It’s everything he wants, everything he thought it would be in his wildest dreams. It’s possessive, almost bruising, like Tony is boiling over and he’s going to fill Peter up with it. Teeth nips at Peter’s bottom lip until he makes the smallest sound, a little desperate. What? That’s Mr. Stark’s tongue in his mouth.

Tony’s hands slip down under the waistband of Peter’s until he touches hair and Peter writhes, knees clanking together, trying to hide himself even though Tony groans again like he’s found nirvana. His nails rake up the sensitive skin near Peter’s groin. “So soft and beautiful.” Tony bites into the meat of Peter’s shoulder, hips still rutting in a sinful rhythm. “Knew you would be.”

“Are you sure about—ah, about this, Mr, Stark?” Peter tries. His tongue is so thick in his mouth. He can hardly process anything. Beyond Tony is the dingy gray walls of the warehouse, the open space, anyone could walk in and they’d see Tony pinning Peter down with his body. Tony has never looked at him this way; not that Peter hasn’t tried. “You’re…you’re going to hate me later.” He covers his face with his hands, feels the heat on his cheeks.

When he turned seventeen he’d pushed his luck. He touched more, took more. Kissed Tony on the cheek goodbye until he was daring enough to slip, catch just the corner of Tony’s mouth. Peter remembers it, it’s was Monday, rainy, because he’ll never forget the way Tony had looked at him after. Terrified. Disgusted, even. Of Peter. Of Peter kissing him.

Right now, Tony needs more than a sidestep kiss and pat on the shoulder. He needs a hole, something to fuck into, something to take apart piece by piece, and he’s already let Peter know he wasn’t interested in that with him. Peter’s brain is spinning, the reality of the situation started to seep in through the cracks of his shock, and he wonders if he’s being an opportunist by taking Tony’s wandering hands in stride. 

“Oh, darling.” Tony leans in and presses a wet kiss to Peter’s shoulder. “I could never hate you.”

The sound of the zipper fills up the whole room. The space is public, with the open floor and windows and sun streaming down, but it’s quiet, save the police sirens outside. Tens of people, probably, just a flimsy wall away while Tony Stark gets his cock out with a groan. 

It’s thick, uncut, slightly to the left, and nestled in a thick and well-groomed swath of dark hair. Peter knew all that from the videos, the tapes he keeps on his phone for the lonely nights, but that’s just an old image of Tony. Right now, Tony is on his knees above Peter and he grins, circling his cock with his fingers so Peter can watch it twitch. He’s still a bit gray, he looks sick, and his hair is slick against his neck. Peter has always liked that, when it curls there, but Peter can’t look away from the curls around Tony’s cock right now because he’s just a man and his mouth is watering.

“You’re going to be the best thing I’ve ever felt,” Tony says through that wicked grin, eyes dazed — mind far away, probably, since the fight has left him. He leans over, lets his cock drag over Peter’s stomach. Peter feels pre-come in a smooth line and it makes him whimper. “I’ve fucked royalty, the most powerful people in the world, the most beautiful, but I know you’re going to feel the best.”

He kisses Peter then, when Peter opens his mouth and moans at the idea. He brings one thick hand up to Peter’s neck and just holds him, all threat but no pressure, and opens up Peter’s kisses with the flat of his tongue until Peter is weak and loose on the floor. Those fingers pull his mouth down, slip in and feel his tongue slide under the fingertips, and Tony doesn’t have to tell Peter to suck because this has happened in Peter’s head at least twenty five times.

Tony tastes like metal and lotion and salt. He presses on Peter’s tongue until Peter drools around his fingers, grinding his cock into Peter’s hip and rolling his thigh up between Peter’s legs. “Knew you’d melt for me, sugar in the rain, just like that.” 

Peter thinks his eyes might roll back in his head. Is he the one that got caught in the sex pollen nightmare? He feels giddy, almost drunk, and he lets more drool come out of his mouth and slick up Tony’s fingers. He knows where they’re going.

Tony is less single-minded than Peter would have thought, because he’s slow to pull his fingers away and he’s slow to lift up Peter’s leg and he spends an awed moment just looking, which borders on being too much. Peter can feel his ass clench when Tony runs a thumb over the pucker, and his legs tighten around Tony’s hips.

“Just, uh…” Peter wipes his mouth and hides his face in his elbow. “You can start, just…whatever you need.”

Tony presses in gently with the pad of his thumb at the same time he tugs Peter’s arm away from his face, just in time to see Peter’s expression slip into something feral. “Need to see you.” Tony bites into the meat of Peter’s shoulder and laves at it with his tongue. His goatee scrapes across Peter’s skin so good, and Peter curls up until his arms are curling over Tony’s head, hovering, unsure whether to bring him closer or pull him away. “My good boy.”

“Mr. Stark.” Peter presses Tony into his shoulders, another bite, and Tony slips a spit-slick finger inside quick and easy. “Oh, god, I didn’t think—I never thought—”

That’s a lie. Peter thought about it a lot, the way Tony might work him open. Tony’s fingers curl smoothly against Peter’s walls, one to two and then three, a little dry but Peter doesn’t mind when it hurts a little because sometimes soft and sweet feels dull. Sometimes he wants someone to rip him open and make him cry and if Tony is going to do it right now, under threat of death—

“Think about you all the time,” Tony croons heavily against Peter’s skin. He pulls away, purposeful, and Peter blinks. He wonders hysterically if the fog melted away, no more sex magic or whatever it is that’s making Tony want to destroy him, but Tony just draws closer until he can slap his cock around Peter’s swollen mouth. “Get me wet. I’ll make you stop thinking for good.”

Peter groans, an open invitation. This is insane. He shouldn’t enjoy this because Mr. Stark is drugged into wanting him and it’s a huge breach of trust and privacy but Peter scrambled up onto his elbows so Tony can feed him his dick, thick and perfect. He grabs Tony’s hip so hard he thinks there might be bruises but Tony fucks a little harder into his mouth, smooth.

There isn’t a lot of time for sex in his line of work, he’s busy, he’s pining over a man who doesn’t want him, not for real, but Peter isn’t too good to get on his knees in the back of a club and swallow someone down. He knows what he’s doing, throat opening up until the head of Tony’s cock hits the back of his throat. He hums. He loves this. He loves sucking people off, makes his head floaty and easy, and he’s got his eyes closed just to revel in it. He lets drool pool in his mouth again, knows it’s going to make his life easier. 

Tony’s thumb wipes a tear off Peter’s cheek, and it’s only then that Peter opens his eyes and finds his lashes damp, stuck together, watery. “There’s my boy.” It’s so fond. “Don’t cry. You’re doing so well.”

Peter’s hips fuck up into the air and he pulls off, suckling at the head before letting it rest gently on his bottom lip. “I’m good. I’m good, Mr. Stark.” He feels Tony twitch against his mouth. It’s incredible. 

It’s nothing compared to Tony rolling him over on his side, the obscene way Tony hikes up one of Peter’s legs and spits in Peter’s hole and feeds Peter the head of his cock so fast it burns a little, the way Peter kind of likes but won’t admit. It hurts and then his body knows it like this and everything evens out and Tony growls when he thrusts fully into Peter. His skin slaps hard against Peter’s hips, rocking Peter with a surprised cry further across the dusty ground. Tony just smoothes his hand over Peter’s hip, under the knee, and rocks into him. He bites feral at Peter’s neck and shoulders like he’s here to take and claim, like he’s going to want to see the shape of himself on Peter later.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, I’m, ah, oh, please.” Tony brushes up against his prostate and Peter jolts forward, bracing himself with his free hand on the ground to stop from being fucked flat into the floor. “Oh, please. It’s good. It’s good, it’s good.”

Peter isn’t sure Tony can hear anything anymore, but he takes his hand off Peter’s knee and wraps it around Peter’s throat, pulling him back so their bodies are flush and rocking hard and tight into Peter’s body. It’s hard to remember this is just drugs, this is just another day on the job getting fucked by the unrequited love of his life, when Tony watching the way Peter’s eyes roll back so closely. When Tony kisses Peter he tastes like blood but feels like gold, wrapping Peter up tighter. Peter couldn’t leave if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to. He’ll never want to.

“You take me so good, kid,” Tony says against Peter’s jaw, kisses wetly at the skin there. “Thought about this, about opening you up in the lab.”

“Ngh.” Peter is beyond speech, just like Tony promised, but his hand flies back to dig nails into Tony’s hip. His cock aches, dribbling precome onto the dirty floor and the tangle of his ruined clothes. 

“It’s bend you over and slip inside and you’d just—fucking—let me.” He thrusts hard into Peter’s hole, punctuation, and the sound Peter makes is ungodly. “Thought about it when you glued yourself to the wall, just ripping your clothes off—mmm.” A slow roll Peter can feel in his toes. “Find you already open and dripping because I know you fuck yourself sometimes before you come in. FRIDAY can tell.”

Tony isn’t squeezing his throat but Peter can’t breathe.

There are a million and one first hand accounts of Tony Stark’s stroke, but Peter doesn’t think any of them compare to the real thing. On the ground, in the warehouse, while Captain America tries to stop New York’s Finest from throwing open the door and seeing Peter pinned here in the dirt, spread open—

“That’s it,” Tony whispers, gravel. He scratches down Peter’s chest and wraps his hand around Peter’s cock. “You’re so good. Go on. Make a mess. Daddy will clean it up for you.”

It’s deep in Peter’s stomach, rolls up until it burns in his chest and chokes him. His hips cant back, trying to take more of Tony, more more more of something that isn’t here, out here in the open. Everyone knows they’re doing this right now. Fuck. Tony’s suit is still there; FRIDAY is recording all of this, the way Peter shudders and writhes and comes and comes and comes all over Tony’s fist. 

He falls flat on his stomach, Tony’s hand still pumping lightly until Peter is pushing back against Tony’s thrusts just trying to get away from the sensitivity. 

“That’s it, that’s it.” Kisses all over his neck, his throat, his cheeks. “Let me take care of you. Almost there, so good. So perfect.”

There’s no condom. That’s the last thought Peter has, as Tony comes thick and hot in Peter’s ass and grunts, bites one more time. No condom. Very messy. It’s fine, probably, since Tony said he’d clean it up. 

The adrenalin drop hits, empty, and Peter fades away into something deeper than sleep with his cheek pressed into the cold ground and Tony pulling out of his body, wet and sloppy.

#alright so this got away from me #obviously #i'm gonna add a little ending onto this and then post to ao3 because this is just a whole fic #starker #sex pollen #fuck or die #i did my best i've never written anything very exciting smut wise before lmao #asks #tntp #dub con #this is fine #im on fire it's fine

[rianavi]

nightmare (spencer reid x reader)

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer shows up at your door late at night, hoping that you can somehow calm him down from his nightmare

contains: comfort/hurt, fluff, angst (if you squint), reader and spencer arent dating yet, mutual pining, obsession, nightmares, talk of murder

wc: 0.5k just a short drabble

Your sat at your couch, mug of tea in hand while you flip through the pages of your book.

This was something you’ve down your whole career. Working with the BAU meant a lot of stressful cases and sights. Sometimes all you needed was to relax and escape into the fantasy world of Faerie.

You had just marked your page and began to get ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door.

Your surprised when you find Spencer standing at your door, hands intertwined in front of him while he rocks on his heels.

“Spencer? What’s going on? Come on in.” You open the door fully and gesture him in. Locking the door behind him.

He stands in front of you, hands twitching and ears flushed red. “I, uh, didn’t know where else to go.”

You notice the slight tremble in his voice, even when he covers it with a cough.

Worried you hesitantly grab his hand and pull him over to the couch. You sat down putting some distance between the two of you and let go of his hand, knowing he has a thing for germs.

You miss the frown on his face before he clears his throat and begins speaking. “I had a dream. A bad one.”

He looks up at you and takes in the warmth and nurturing feeling that radiates from you. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, leaning into the arm of the couch and pulling a blanket over your bare legs.

“Um, it was about the case. Except it was you who had gone in instead of Hotch. It wasn’t just some cuts and scrapes either, you had gotten shot. In the hospital, the doctors told us that you wouldn’t make it.” He whispers the last part and looks down at his hands while they fiddle with the frayed ends of his sweater.

“Spencer, it’s okay to have nightmares, everyone does. Hell even Hotch does. I’m alright, I’m alive and well, sitting right here.” I grab his hand and look into his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

“But what if you’re not? What if someday you get hurt and- and you don’t come back.” He moves his hands around frantically before staring at you.

“What if you don’t come back to me?” He whispers, voice trembling and hands grabbing at yours.

The sight makes your heart break and you immediately grab onto his wrists, mindful not to hurt him.

“Spencer you listen to me. I am okay, I am alive, and I will always come back to you. There’s a reason we go in with backup and spend time planning. I promise you Spencer I won’t go away.”

You stare into his eyes and slide your hands into his. “Besides it’s not that easy to get rid of me.”

He smiles at you and shuffles forward wrapping his arms around your waist.

Taken aback you freeze, your hands hover over his back and your breath hitches.

Before he takes your halt in the wrong way, you wrap your arms around his neck while he burries his face into your neck, enjoying your warmth.

“Thank you.” He whispers softly into your hair.

The rain against your window seems to match up with his breathing.

#this is so cute im gonna blow my brains out #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fix #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #i want to die #i need spencer reid #i want spencer reid #fanfic #fluff #smut #smut links

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday💀

tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck 💖

hi! so, yesterday I randomly opened the doc with the buddie death cast au - which is a fic I started writing last summer on vacation and never got back to it but then made progress lol it's gonna be MCD, which i know is not everyone's thing so feel free to ignore this 🤣 it's basically buddie in the universe of the "they both die at the end"/"the first to die at the end" books so it's gonna be sad, sorry lol (I never even read mcd, idk why i'm writing this but this idea just wants to be written i guess haha) gotta put this weird mood I've been in lately to good use and finally write this 🤣 not sure if I'm happy with this snippet, but it all needs editing, the first two snippets were written on my phone and haven't been edited yet lol

I posted two snippets so far, gonna link them both snippet 1 | snippet 2

___

“Is all of this clear, Eddie?” she asks in the end.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” he says shortly. He should've just hung up immediately. Or cancel this stupid subscription after Shannon died. Sometimes he wonders if maybe people who get the calls and coincidentally get into accidents, for example, just give up and refuse to fight because they think it’s their time. Not like Shannon could do much, her injuries were too severe when they got there, but the point stands. Maybe they get more reckless, thinking it doesn’t matter anyway. 

There’s a short pause on the line, but then Jane speaks up again, her tone softer, more sympathy seeping through.

“I know it’s not easy to accept, if you’d like some help with that, on out website you can find therapists and grief counselors specializing in-”

“Listen.” Eddie interrupts. He’s spent enough time in therapy. He’s not doing it on his supposedly last day. “I know it’s all bullshit. I don’t care. You said what you had to say, I listened, for whatever reason.” he rolls his eyes. He really should’ve hung up, or not answered at all. “Is this conversation over yet?” he asks and is met with another moment of silence. She’s probably wondering what everyone else always is: why is he even spending money on this if he doesn’t believe. He has an answer ready to go, but that’s not what she asks.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says quieter, whispering, probably not allowed to go too much off-script. 

“Sure, why not.” he shrugs. He’s wide awake now, anyway, he’s not in a hurry. Not like he’s dying anytime soon.

“If it was your last day, how would you spend it? You don’t have to answer, just think about it.” she adds quickly, her tone much softer and gentler now. Eddie’s mind immediately supplies a picture of Christopher and Buck, just a casual hang-out, like usual, maybe going to the movies, or the aquarium, or the planetarium, something fun for his kid. And later a gathering with the rest of their family, maybe a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s, with Maddie and Chim, and Hen and Karen, all their kids, just everyone having fun together. Yeah, that’d be a perfect day. “There’s no harm in spending today just like this, if possible. Just in case.” Jane adds, still whispering. He doesn’t tell her that’s more or less his plan, anyway, for the evening after his 12-hour shift. During which nothing will happen to him, because Death-Cast doesn’t know shit. “Well, lastly, Eddie,” Jane’s voice is back at normal-volume, tone strictly professional but sympathetic, as she recites the end of her script, “on behalf of everyone here at Death-Cast, we’re so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest.”

Eddie hangs up without a word.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @diazsdimples @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks

#tease tidbit tuesday #death cast buddie au #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #angst #buddie angst #mcd #i don't know how yet but eddie will die in this one bc apparently ive been in the mood to break my own heart lmao #i wanted to say maybe i'd share smth happier tomorrow but i don't think i have any happy wips im actively working on rn??? #there are happy wips in general but im not really in the mood/inspired for those rn #ran out of happy when i finished the natalia fic i guess lol #who even am i lmao what's with all the angst and sad im usually all about fluff 🤣 #(gonna share some more of alive shannon tomorrow!) #btw if you haven't read the books and have questions hmu but also i'll try to make everything clear in the fic lol #but also SO recommend the books they're so good and so sad and I think about them like at least once a week (the prequel wrecked me)

[honeyhoneypot]

writing is just so FUN omg, like you're telling me that I can make these two characters fall in love just by typing on a laptop keyboard???

Alenoah better watch out because both of them are so fun to write about ong, like put them in any situation and it fits perfectly (new curl up like a pill-bug chapter should be out tomorrow omg)

GWOURTNEY AND IZZY/EVA TOO OMG, they're getting fics soon because i love them

#i love writing #NEW CHAPTER IS SO FUN THIS TIME #that and my haikyuu lotr au fic #that's honestly purely for myself rn it's so much fun im gonna die #writing #alenoah #total drama #total drama fic #fanfic

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

Robutler isn't very practiced in regards to engaging with humans... Really, Doctor Prism is the only human he even knows. But even with his lack of hands-on-experience, he's always had a hunch that his creator was... unique, in more ways than just her impressive intellect. Not to say that he minds. Quite the contrary, in fact! But that isn't to say he's never been curious about some of her more fascinating habits...

🫵 hey you. yeah. go read my fic abt roxana stimming. or else.

#i picked up a pen (art) #crackpost #Roxana prism #robutler #ieytd #i expect you to die #ieytd3 #fanfiction #VERY minor spoilers. barely any spoilers at all really. just for mission one and even then it's a blink and you'll miss it spoiler #i didn't make the meme to promo this fic PERSAY.... i drew it first. then the concept infested my mind #and i blacked out and woke up to the fic so #IM GONNA GET BACK TO FEED THE ROSES SOON. I SWEAR. I SWEAR ON MY LIFE.

[squarebracketsmileyface]

taps on ur shoulder any mh thoughts or hcs spinning around in your head rn

Honestly, I love thinking about trans Alex Kralie so much, usually transfemme Alex because, like, look at that guy, especially in that one video where he was with Amy, "he" was She in that video I believe it with my whole soul.

But like, just thinking about Alex being closeted transfemme and in a big ol' polycule where she's the hinge partner between Amy and Jay, Tim and Brian (so Amy is Tim, Brian and Jay's metamour) like, just thinking about Alex coming out to Amy first, not because she thinks the boys wouldn't be accepting, or even that she thinks Amy would be more accepting than they would, just because to come out to any of the boys she'd then feel obligated to come out to all of them at the same time, she wouldn't want to tell one of them before the others, so she'd have to tell them all at once and that feels too big. So she just comes out to Amy first.

And that goes super well, and it's so much less scary than she thought it'd be. So she comes out to Amy and Amy starts offering to take her clothes shopping, or buy stuff for her if she doesn't feel comfy enough to buy her own stuff. She teaches Alex how to do her make up (and they definitely do that think like that one photo, with Amy sitting in Alex's lap to do her lipgloss for her and Alex has a huge sapphic crisis over it and gay panics for half an hour because holy shit her girlfriend is so fucking gorgeous and she's sitting on her and her face is so close to Alex's, and she's doing her lipgloss for her and oh my god Alex needs to kiss her and mess up that lipgloss immediately)

So it goes like that for a few months, with only Amy knowing, and Alex is slowly getting more and more comfy in herself. She knows how to do her own eyeliner and mascara, she knows how to use foundation and contour now, and she pretty much never leaves the house without nail polish any more because it just makes her feel so pretty, and if anyone asks she can say she's "just a guy who's not scared to wear nail polish, fuck off alright?"

But obviously, eventually she feels kinda ready to tell her other partners. Amy offers to go with her, and Alex agrees immediately because god she's so nervous, even though she knows it'll all go absolutely fine. Like, Tim is trans himself, of course it'll go fine, literally how could it not, Alex already knows all her boyfriends are totally fine with dating someone who's trans. But that obviously doesn't stop the nerves. So Amy picks her up a bit early and takes her out for a little cafe date to try and help her calm her nerves: "A coffee date without the coffee because it'll just make you even more nervous and jittery. You're getting hot chocolate and that's final."

So they have their little no coffee coffee date and head on to go meet up with the others, and Alex is so nervous, like, knee bouncing, fingers tapping, picking at the skin around her nails so that she doesn't pick off the nail polish that she put on the night before. And Amy just leans over and kisses her once they're parked up outside Brian and Tim's apartment, which is where they all agreed to meet because it's the biggest of everyone's places.

Amy and Alex knock on the door and Alex is panicking over the outfit she chose to wear, even though it's her favourite outfit and Amy constantly reminds her how utterly gorgeous and pretty and so hot she is in it (and out of it). Jay's the one who answers the door and he just kinda stares at Alex for a moment like, cartoon heart eyes floating off the ground drooling at the sight of a beautiful woman, because he's a total fucking loser and gorgeous women are his weakness (gorgeous men too, but right now all he can think is "holy fuck Alex is wearing a skirt and lipstick. I MUST KISS.")

So like, they get into the apartment and the whole conversations goes absolutely fine, just like Alex knew it would, and Amy had promised it would. And the day just ends with the whole polycule (missing Sarah, because I fully believe she's in this polycule too, except she's only dating Amy and Jessica, and not Alex or any of the boys so she wasn't massively needed for this conversation) the whole polycule all cuddled up on and in front of the couch, with Alex in the middle getting just absolutely doted on because they all saw how much she was shaking and how anxious she was and just NEED to show her how loved she is. Like, everyone seems to need to have at least some part of themself touching her at all times, whether it's fingers laced between hers, their head on her shoulder, a hand on her thigh fiddling with the hem of her skirt, whatever.

And she just feels so happy. Like, she's pretty sure she's never been more in love and she can't WAIT to start wearing make up and more feminine clothes in front of her boyfriend's because she KNOWS that they'll all just trip over themselves to do what she wants. Because they already did that anyway, and she knows from their initial reactions to seeing her all dolled up that that'll just get worse as time goes on :]

As in, if she wants kisses, she will have all three of her boyfriend's waiting in line because she's wearing lipstick and they're obsessed with getting lipstick marks on their cheeks and necks and stuff. Bonus points if it's black lipstick she's wearing, Jay goes nuts over it. Amy says she looks prettiest in dark red lipstick, and absolutely takes any excuse to climb on top of her to apply it herself before they make out just so she can see it all smeared and messed up afterwards. Amy is very gay for her girlfriend who could 100% flip them over at any second but just Doesn't because she likes looking up at Amy and seeing her smile :]

#god i love these charactersssssss #Amylex is the cutest fucking ship in the fucking world im actually gonna fucking die #like. i have fic ideas for them that i just havent gotten around to writing yet. but just AMYLEX #they were so fucking cute in the actual series from what little we got to see of them #like. alex loved her SO fucking much #god i hate that she died in the actual series. why couldnt she and alex have had more time together??? #they got like three years tops right??????? im gonna start fist fighting people WHY COULDNT THEY HAVE BEEN HAPPY? they deserved to be happy #marble hornets #alex kralie #amy walters #amylex sooths my soul i swear #mh amylex #amylex #jay merrick #tim wright #brian thomas #polyhornets #asks

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i only just found your au and i need everyone to have a happy ending so badly im gonna cry ;-; sally is gonna be so freakin upset when she wakes up for real and sees she decimated barnaby.

oh, Barnaby already has his arm stitched back on when she wakes up! and really, even if he didn't, that'd be the Least of her worries. she wakes up into a Real nightmare - partially of her (unintentional) making

#happy endings... well... yes and no. depends on what act you look at #act one? no! actually things get So Much Worse in an entirely festive new way! #act two? eh! sorta! its more bittersweet than anything #act three and four blend into each other so much that three doesn't have an 'ending' #but the final act - act four... well. who's to say! im still workshopping what i want to happen #but i do know it's still gonna have at Least a bittersweet tinge to it #wh lights out au #rambles from the bog #there are consequences and not everyone Makes It. i dont like stories where everything wraps up perfectly fine #even if it hurts! i like it when things hurt in a good way. those stories where the ending is overall positive #but Enough Happened that its just... its an ache. looking at where someone used to be. you know? #my favorite shows and books and fics have ended with me smiling while sobbing bc it yes it Hurts but it was So Fucking Good #and while i wouldnt be able to handle rewatching/rereading due to Emotional Damage... #i think of them fondly and often and theyre Important to me #perfectly happy endings just rub me wrong. it always feels like there's something Missing despite it all being idyllic #i cant let my own stories - original or aus or whatever - have that kind of end #so if thats what people are hoping for! you've come to the wrong person and the wrong au! #i like to be kind but that rarely extends to my creative works! #i like it messy and painful and bittersweet and i like to be Ruthless with my creations with no compromise #sometimes characters need to fight. or leave. or die. or make serious mistakes. etc. #but anyway! anyway.... #i will say that there isn't a happy ending for Everyone. and for others it's... complicated. again - bittersweet

[gaily-daily-musings]

(Force ghost Obi-Wan visits Anakin at the moment of his death)

-

Vader is slipping away, fading into the ether. Obi-Wan can feel the end of it in the Force. And yet even as he watches, Obi-Wan rages against it. He cannot let him.

Obi-Wan had come to terms with Vader and his past a long time ago. He had accepted his part in it and let go. He was a Jedi, and he had forged ahead and put his faith in the boy. In Luke. But he had never expected this. Vader–Anakin–to come back. Not after so long. It was less that he'd lost faith in Anakin, and more that it was necessary for him to be able to move on. How cruel the Force was then, to give Anakin back only to take him away again.

Obi-Wan cannot let him.

As his last words leave his mouth, taking with it his last breath, Obi-Wan rushes to his side. It would take a miracle. He, Yoda, and Qui-Gon, had all had to receive extensive training to maintain their consciousness after death. He had but mere minutes. But Anakin was the Force's son was he not? He was the Chosen One. And oh he'd believed it was Luke. And it was in a way. But also Anakin. Always Anakin. So if anyone could do the impossible, it was him.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin's eyes widen. He has no mouth to speak anymore, caught in death's grip. Yet still his voice rings true. "Master I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I–"

"Hush now and listen carefully. We don't have much time."

Indeed, even now he could feel the way Anakin was merging back into the Force. Gone forever. Just like when he'd fallen to the Dark. Except now it was worse. Because now Obi-Wan would truly never see him again. He has no heart nor any body yet it aches. No please, he begs silently. One last time. One last miracle.

"You're in the netherworld of the Force. But I can teach you how to revisit corporeal space and retain your consciousness. A path to immortality."

"But…why…?"

Confusion and remorse burst through. Luke hugs his dead father's body to his chest.

"Never mind that! Do you wish this path, Anakin?" He cannot keep the desperation from his voice.

Anakin looks up at him. "Yes."

Obi-Wan has no breath but he feels his chest heave anyway. "Right, let us begin quickly…"

-

Yoda and Qui-Gon had manifested beside them as Anakin grew stronger and more grounded in the Force. Their voices helped steer him away from the wave which would have swept him away.

After all is said and done Anakin stands before him. Anakin, as he was. As he used to be. Obi-Wan almost cannot believe it even with the proof in front of him.

"Masters." Anakin looks around him, overwhelmed and teary eyed.

"Anakin." Qui-Gon smiles proudly. He moves to hug him. "I was watching you always. You did it. I knew you could."

Ankain squeezes back.

Yoda nods at him, a smile on his old face. Obi-Wan yearns to hold him too, but he hesitates. Unsure how to anymore or if it is even welcome. It's been so long. And there is so much to say. He's sorry he gave up on him. He's sorry he didn't try harder. He's sorry for causing him so much pain.

There is no shielding in the cosmic force. It is all open and bare. Anakin feels all of it. He is frozen in place. In turn Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s own remorse. His guilt burns alongside everything else. But above all his soul aches for Obi-Wan's just as well.

Oh. Oh Obi-Wan wishes he could hide himself away like before. Put up a wall and meditate this away. This is too raw. Too open. He is gutted and speared and on display.

But so is Anakin.

"Obi-Wan."

They fall into each other. Their souls intertwining finally. There is love. Love. He is made of it. He radiates it. He'll never let this go again. Not ever.

-

The party lasts far into the night. Luke gives them a smile and turns away to rejoin his friends. Anakin smiles proudly at him. Yoda has already returned to the Force. Only he and Anakin remain to watch the festivities a little longer.

Obi-Wan turns to observe him. Anakin is as radiant as he'd been at 23. Curly hair, his Jedi robes in place. He looks exactly as he had been. Obi-Wan feels so old standing next to him. His eternal boy. It didn't seem fair, but Obi-Wan wouldn't have it any other way.

Anakin shifts to peer down at him as if taking him in for the first time. His eyes wander his face and wrinkles.

"What?"

Anakin reaches up to drag a hand through his white hair. Obi-Wan bristles at the touch, leaning in without meaning to. His soul has always reached back for Anakin.

"Nothing. Just looking at you I guess."

His ephemeral form makes a valiant effort at blushing. Then Anakin opens his mouth and completely obliterates any chance he had at saving face.

"Can ghosts have sex?"

They were both of and in the Force. Anakin was him and he was Anakin. It was the closest they'd ever been and ever would be. But instead of saying any of that Obi-Wan touches his beard and strokes the memory of bristles.

"Can't say I've ever tried."

Anakin grins.

#anakin: if you dont touch me rn im gonna die #obiwan: your already dead anakin #luke asking Obi-Wan is he gets to be a twink forever when he dies too #hes gonna be disappointed #the force plays favorites #every once in a while the force will fluctuate and ripple in pleasure #it drives everyone who feels it up the fucking wall because they KNOW #obikin are at it again #god guys give it a rest #my writing #my fics #obikin fic

[atyourperil]

kind of disheartening that the blaseball tag is a bunch of people going "before the fandom is dead...." like speak for yourself i am never going to shut the fuck up about this fucking splort

#still theeee most insane media experience of all time. you can think about OTHER THINGS? crazy #like. this doesnt even feel like the end to me. idk maybe its because i never got to see a full season but this seems very on theme for blb #its a new era sure. but like. im never shutting up ever and as long as we love this thing it will not die. #its 1:14 am im gonna get sappy but. yknow. im unkillable and immune to cringe and maybe gonna write fic tomorrow #blaseball #blalling

[xxcherrycherixx]

Ok listen: ghost blondie lockes.

Bestie fucking died (no one knows, they just think blondie ran away from home and never came back) and lives as a ghost just vibing. When cupid comes to ever after high she’s surprised to see that ghosts exist here too, blondie ends up casually stalking her since cupid is new and shes still nosy even in death. Cupid confronts her and blondie looks shocked that someone can actually see her. The two become friends since cupid is literally the only bitch who can see or communicate with her, wacky hijinks ensue.

#ever after high #c.a cupid #blondie lockes #heartlockes #oh yeah the heartlockes tag is included for this/ cupid is gonna find a way to bang a ghost girl or die trying #i legit want to write a silly crack fic for this lol #its such a fun concept to fuck around with #with normal ghost au’s theyre always so serious but i want them to do silly slapstick shit #yall know horror movie spoofs? i want it like that #people always compare blondie and spectra so im making them even more alike bitch #sorry i called you bitch