#except when he does

[0hheytherebigbadwolf]

Stiles: Do, uh, do you wanna get a drink sometime?

Derek: You've saved my life three times tonight. I've sucked people off for less.

[saffron-seraph]

Helloo, I'm back with another thought :3

What if Livewire knew Eddie before the split?

Maybe they were even lovers and then one day suddenly they walk in the breaker box and there's another guy with white hair and a confused expression on his face looking around

- 🐉 (Dragon Volt anon)

THIS is so interesting to think about because Eddie has to get worse in order for his body to be pushed so far to create Volt. So maybe the human, you, were lovers with him but he kept growing distant as he took on more and more responsibility around the house to keep it running, and started shutting you out. But of course you persisted and visited him anyways, always trying to comfort and help how you could, but you couldn't be there for him as much as they'd like, the dateviators only had so much charge.

So one night on a visit to Eddie, it's shocking to see a man with white hair looming around the Breaker Box with no Eddie in sight. You wouldn't have been so surprised, after all, it felt like you were always meeting new objects in your house, but the bar was closed and this man was wearing Eddie's clothes... So naturally you kinda freak and ask what he's done with Eddie.

The man, Volt as he introduces himself to be (a bit unsure as though he isn't too sure that's right just yet), tells you that Eddie is okay and asleep for now, exhausted after what happened.

"And what happened?" You ask, just as bewildered as Volt seems to be.

And he tells you exactly what occurred, to the best of his ability. "I wasn't there one moment and the next moment I was. Eddie was in pain... so I showed up. I remember him needing help. So I helped him. Oh, and he gave me these clothes." He gestured to himself and the shirt that was absolutely too tight even with the first few buttons undone. The he examined you a bit more intently, before his face split into a grin. "And you must be his lover. The livewire that's kept him going for this long."

"You know me?"

"Eddie knows you. So it seems I do as well."

[hippolotamus]

Tagged by @panbuckley. Thank you dearest (if I haven't mentioned it I am living for Sugar Daddy Buck)

No Pressure tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress my beloved @lizzie-bennetdarcy @buddierights @911onabc @littlebitofdiaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @spotsandsocks @apothecarose @rmd-writes @jesuisici33 @the-likesofus @megsvstheworld @honestlydarkprincess @prince-buck-diaz @monsterrae1 @heartbeatdiaz

So here we are, still at the Conservatory ball, but at least we've moved to Eddie's POV. Huzzah!

“Well?” Helena prompts, gesturing toward the crowd.  “Well what?” He asks, mostly to irritate her. He knows what she’s after. She wants him to get out of his own head, lock eyes with someone and fall to his knees, proposal at the ready. Perhaps not that exactly, but it doesn’t seem like an unreasonable assumption. What she does next turns out to be so much worse.  “You should have plenty of options, Eddito. After all–” Helena raises her voice, making sure everyone in a twenty foot radius can hear her. “This is the season the Viscount intends to find a wife.” Suddenly conversations are halted and heads are turning to look at him from every direction. His pulse picks up and the air becomes thin, making it harder to breathe. Spots begin dancing around the edges of his vision, his fingertips tingling, as a gaggle of predatory debutantes dressed in lace and jewels begin flocking towards him.  “You really just did that?” He grits out. His mother answers with a tone that could only be described as self-satisfied and smug. “I believe I did.”

[rayadraws]

Don’t be mean to him

[sup-honey]

Merry Christmas, dear Zaunites!

[masterofthelivingforce]

Qui-gon!!! ... I am surprised to see you survived....

“Sorry to disappoint. Like many people have stated over the years, I have the resiliency of a weed.”

[solrosan]

Mood of the day: reading court records from 1541, making up RPF about the poor priest whose entire parish was put on trial by the archbishop because they celebrated Catholic mass behind his back some 10-15 years after the reformation hit Sweden.

[ollie-oxen-free]

Flufftober Day 10

First time cooking for each other (honeyketchup)

Stretch tented his fingers in front of his mouth, staring in mild disappointment at his flaming microwave. How the hell did he manage to fuck ramen up this badly? He picked up the fire extinguisher that his brother always made him keep while cooking, giving the device a few quick sprays before setting it back down on the counter, sighing as he looked at the charred mess that was sitting inside. Stretch picked up the wrapper that the noodles came in, squinting down at it for a few moments before he audibly groaned. It was three minutes. Not thirty.

The burnt husk of a kitchen appliance gave a sharp pop, a bit of electricity sparking out of it, and Stretch narrowed his eyes, picking up a spatula that was sitting beside the sink and giving it a harsh poke. So much for him making dinner tonight. God, this was embarrassing. Hey, Sans! Do you wanna come over later and watch a movie? Nah, don’t worry about dinner, I can just make some ramen. The poor man’s spaghetti, right? But surprise, surprise. He was standing here, incapable of making something as simple as ramen for fucks sake.

His eyes flicked over to the phone. He could always order a pizza? Though, he seriously doubted that it would be here in t--

Two knocks resounded on the door, their weight holding a finality that Stretch had only heard about in edgy poetry. He sighed, trudging to the door in a walk of shame. He stopped a foot from the door, feeling his mouth twitch up a bit in humor.

“Who’s there?”

“Gunner.”

“Gunner who?”

There was a slight pause- for comedic effect, of course. “Gunner let me in or what?”

Stretch snickered, pulling open the door and stepping aside to let the smaller in, feeling his soul drop a bit as the easy walk stiffened and he slowed, then stopped. “...Is something burning?”

He sniffed, looking off to the side. “My microwave, probably.”

There was a moment’s pause before Sans turned to look over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Stretch returned the stare, though with a much less amused expression, sticking out his tongue. Sans chuckled, starting to walk in the direction where the appealing scent of burnt hair and plastic was the strongest. “Hey, Stretch. Have you ever made a quiche before?”

The taller rolled his eyes, despite the fact that there was no way the skeleton in front of him could see. “Bitch, I can’t even microwave ramen.”

Sans turned around, walking backwards for a few steps. “Do you wanna learn how?”

Stretch watched him for a few moments before nodding and following after. That was one of the main things he liked about Sans, he realized. It was… easy, in a good way. There was never any need to impress since there was never a chance that he would be disappointed in something that effort was put into. “Lead the way, and teach me your skills, oh Wise and Marvelous Sans.”

“Keep that up and I ain’t teaching you nothing.”