If Cas is going to remember everything up to the moment he died does that mean the last thing he remembers is looking at Dean...?!
I would imagine so, yeah. But was his last sight of Dean the relieved and happy face when he came through the portal, or the shocked and devastated face when he saw the blade come through Cas’s chest… great it was a happy thought until I made it awful! I AM SO SORRY.
now I have Cas’s lines from 12.12 stuck in my head, including the “please, don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die.“
Marinette didn’t even need to look up. She knew his voice, never mind the fact that he was the only one to call her by that nickname. The corners of her lips quirked as the idly reached out towards the soft petals blooming in her balcony’s flower box. She felt and heard a soft thud as he landed gracefully at her side.
“Bonsoir, Chat Noir” she hummed with a smile, a slight jingle to her voice as she played up the rhyme in the greeting.
He stood on the other side of the rail, hands holding on as he leaned forward towards her. A large smile was already on his face—it screamed trouble.
“Bonsoir, Marinette!” he replied, “Enjoying this fine evening?”
“Hmmm,” she returned, wondering what he was up to, “And to what do I owe for another special visit by the hero of Paris?”
He scoffed, a hand raising up to wave her off, as if the praise weren’t warranted. But she could tell from the puff of his chest that he was soaking in the praise like a sponge. His hand eventually found its way into his hair and he self-consciously ruffled it, making it even messier then usual. Marinette giggled.
Hesitant and shy, he looked down at the floor of the balcony behind her, his eyes quickly sliding over her, before he ended up staring down at his boots. Marinette tilted her head to the side, she had meant to feed his confidence, boost his ever growing ego, but for some reason he didn’t seem quite himself.
Her hand reached out to cover his grip on the railing. He flinched slightly, his bright green eyes rising up to meet her concerned question and stare.
“Oh! Well…” he paused, “It’s such a lovely night…I thought…”
He ducked his head down for a moment, before finally finding the words. It came off as a small, gentle whisper.
“I thought that you might enjoy a night on the town…with me?”
A short moment of silence stretched out between them. Her hand remained on top of his, until he moved his hand out from under her. It went up to the back of his head.
“I mean…if you wanted to that is. I—well, sorry—it’s late; you’re probably tired…you should probably be sleeping. I just thought. I, um…”
Marinette’s brows furrowed, concerned for her partner as he seemed to struggle to get his thoughts out.
“Okay,” she ended up saying without a second thought.
He perked up immediately, “Really?”
“Of course,” she replied, “I trust you Chat. You’re my friend. I always enjoy spending time with you—especially when it’s akuma free!”
He smiled so brightly, Marinette felt as if she had just given him the greatest gift imaginable. She wanted to keep that smile on him for as long as possible.
“Alrighty then, Princess,” he chirped, jumping up and landing with his feet on top of the balcony railing, A hand reached behind his back grabbing his baton, which he expertly twirled in a flourish before extending it out in front of him, until it knocked onto the balcony floor.
He reached out a hand, palm up, ducking his head slightly as she looked up at him curiously. Just what did this cat have planned?
“You trust me right?”
She giggled, as she raised her hand, letting him grab ahold of her, “Yes, Chat. You know I do.”
“Ooooookay then!” And in one rushed movement—and some superhuman strength—he pulled her up towards him just as his baton shot up into the sky. “Hold on!”
Marinette gasped at the rush of cool, nighttime air rushing past her. Chat Noir brought her hand that he held up to his shoulder, while Marinette brought her other up and arm wrapped around his neck. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, squeezing her eyes shut from the initial shock. She could feel his chuckle against her ear.
Of course as Ladybug she had done much more daring feats—and as Marinette she had been swept up off her feet by Chat Noir before—but this felt suddenly different. They weren’t running away from anything, she wasn’t patrolling the city or fighting a battle with her partner. There was no threat and while she didn’t have the protection of her transformation, she felt more then safe in Chat’s arms.
As they surged forward leaping towards the next building’s rooftop with ease, and Marinette slowly leaned back from Chat looking up at him in awe.
Behind him the moonlight lit up the lightest blonde strands of his hair, making it flash like starlight. His green eyes stayed focused on the view ahead and Marinette smiled before resting her head against his shoulder and watching as they sped through the City.
“Kinda romantic, huh?” she heard Chat say as they leapt towards another building, they passed by the Notre Dame, where the moonlight was playing kaleidoscope with its stained-glass windows.
“Pffft,” Marinette scoffed nudging her chin on his shoulder, “relax, you flirt.”
He chuckled, “Sorry, I guess old habits die hard.” His bright green eyes looked down at her for just a moment before he glanced back in front of them timing their next leap into the air.
Marinette settled her chin back onto his shoulder so that she could look back as they continued forward. After a few more well timed leaps, Marinette slowly became aware of a slow, rumbling hum. She looked back up at Chat with a questioning brow.
He returned her stare with a giant grin.
And then he started singing.
“I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid…”
Marinette stared at him in disbelieve. He seemed to ignore her look of awe, focusing mostly on the placement of his baton on the next rooftop…at least until the next line of the song.
“Tell me, princess,” at the word princess he peeked down at her from the corner of his eyes, smiling even wider at her expression. Before he continued he gave her one of his trademarked winks.
“Now when did you last let your heart decide?”
If anyone had been there to point out the blush on Marinette’s cheeks she would have simply blamed the cool night breeze.
[because we all know he’s as kinky as it gets, come on / masterlist with the other versions (jimin ; jungkook ; yoongi ; namjoon under /tagged/masterlist]
- switch taehyung with a thing for all things soft and fluffy, materials that slip and slide over his skin and leave him tingling underneath you
- so, yes, inevitably - kitty ears, handmade to fit him in delicate shades of ash grey (yoongi’s hair colour, specifically, and it wasn’t weird that you’d used that for reference), the insides in white. they glow against his skin, offsetting the pink in his cheeks when you slide a hand under his chin and ask who’s a good little kitty?
- anal play, for him - your fingers, curling to find that really good place taeyhung didn’t stop talking about for a full day once he found it on his own in the shower
- watching him writhe and grind up against your palm, fingers clawing at whatever you’ve found to bend him over, fuck himself back with his mouth hanging open, practically panting with pleasure, wanton and lovely
- the same for you, accompanied by his that ever curious, ever present tongue, because to taehyung it isn’t simply a kinky treat - he overheard namjoon discussing its merits with yoongi and seokjin over soju and dinner on a night off (a horrified, fascinated and slightly aroused jeongguk hovered in the background, according to tae)
-he likes to spread your ass with both hands, flicking his tongue in little circles, pushing it in with no warning and his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wants you
- butt plugs with long, luxurious tails attached that he says send goosebumps over his skin when they brush over his thighs; you’re certain that the sight of him, ass pushed up into the air, back arched, waiting for your move, is one of the hottest things you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing
- wet, wet fucking, because of massage oils that smell like aphrodisiac-laced candy, splashed over your chest, his cock, rubbed over five-hours-of-practice sore muscles, working it over his cock and that sweet place just under his balls that has him gasping out your name
- sloppy oral, taehyung near suffocating under the weight of your body on top of him sucking and gasping between licks, leaving bruises littered across the insides of your thighs
- him begging for you to slap him (harder, please, fucking slap me, I’m yours, I’m your bitch, baby, please)
- shaking in makeshift restraints (if you’d been in a rush just to see him strapped down), sometimes done up with meticulous care in soft ropes; the lead of his leather collar looped around the headboard or your hand
- squeezing his neck as tight as you can while you fuck his mouth open with two fingers, delighting in the sight of his eyes fluttering, chanting thank you, thank you, thank you
- exhibitionism (are you really surprised?): slipping his hand over your ass as you hunt for good street food, squeezing in appreciation no matter who’s looking - especially if someone is looking
- pulling you into crooked alleyways at the side of busy streets, with whispered supplications, dressed up demands: gonna fuck my face baby, let me taste you out here like a good little girl?
- always tempting you to go that little bit further
- further is never enough, of course - he wants you in the back of darkened cinemas, against a tree on secluded paths, underwear around your ankles and the sleeve of your jacket balled up against your mouth while he fucks you wide open
- in the shower at the dorms, something dark and dirty catching in his eyes when he slaps a hand down over your mouth, scissoring you with in leisurely twisting motions. The slant of his mouth, concentrated and serious as he slams into you with the desperation only a lonely night full of errant boners and no privacy can bring - it’s almost bored
- pleasure is taken in overwhelming amounts, from telling his hyungs that he’s fine, he’ll be out in just a minute, relying only on the rush of water to mask the lewd slap of his skin on yours, rocking his hips up hard, eyes on yours, then on the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you, water cascading over your thighs
- eating his cum when it leaks out of your hole, swallowing it down, a gentle hum of contentment and arousal as the tastes of you both mix on his tongue
- alternatively, he’s sometimes eager to keep you filled up with it and that’s when the plugs come out - silicone or glass, plain or finely crafted dusky-rose, small or large, you name it and taehyung has ordered it, picked it up as soon its arrived and ripped open the packaging, like the kinkiest kid at christmas
- countless dinners, brunches, impromptu nights in comfy, worn-down cafes with the boys spinning their storm of light-hearted chaos around you - so many of them spent trying to keep taehyung’s hands searching hands on his food and phone instead of tugging you towards the restroom so he can inspect the plug in your asshole
- and if you can’t count the amount of times that jimin has caught you both emerging from a unisex stall with your shirt askew and taehyung’s mouth oddly…pink, and glistening, when he was sure tae had said you were feeling a little sick; then so be it, that’s the hazards of fucking someone with as little self-awareness as tae
- he walks well in heels, and looks good in them too - even better in soft thigh highs and pastel heels, frilled suspended belt on his hips, hands splayed over his face as you work him throuth endless loops of dry orgasms because, as he never fails to remind you, he’s a greedy shit and the pain of it can keep him going for hours
he’s always loud, because sound is one of the little things that has him hardest the fastest - that, and the nerve-wrecking knowledge that you’re sucking the head of his cock, prettily and neatly, with the door open so he has to be quiet
- every slurp and slight pop, the damp tap of his dick’s tip on your tongue has him taut with the effort of keeping his groans and whines at a complete minimum (there’s only so much his phone, playing some drama neither of you care about, can hide)
- possessiveness manifesting in him practically attacking you on movie nights, pulling your mouth to his at every lull in the storyline - and it’s weird, you think, that the complaints are so half hearted when his hand dips between your legs, tugs so blatantly on your underwear with insistent fingers
- so, yes, your circle of your closest friends may or may not be full of voyeuristic perverts and this may or may not have been what lead up the first incident that was as close to a threesome as you’ve ever gotten
- specifically, jeongukk trying his hardest to keep both eyes on a battered manga - held upside down and with the pages half closed - and then on the television, blaring into the dimly lit room - when tae wrapped his fingers loosely round the base of your throat and murmured sweet, filthy nothings into your mouth
- sitting on the sofa in the dorm’s living room, no less, with the hyungs occupied somewhere you couldn’t care about when taehyung’s fingers found their way to your nipples
- “he’s gonna get off to this later,” taehyung had mumbled, “that’s so fucking hot, jesus, I should fuck you right here, let him see you take it”
- you didn’t, because it was unethical, gross, invasive - and everyone had come back early, so there’d only been enough time for jungkook to wall himself into the bathroom, wailing that he was “busy, really busy so just leave me alone and get a life while I just - do - stuff, please, oh my god.”
- It’s the next thing on taehyung’s list, though: entice jeongguk with the promise of wicked and depraved delights, fuck him into submission and servitude, and maybe, finally, show him who the actual hyung is
- (a nice dream, but it’s hard to take seriously when he’s on his knees, begging for orgasms, grinding against nothingness with a masterpiece made up of bruises on his ass.)
Imagine KO coming home from work and hits the hay, because being a doctor at a hospital is extremely hard work, so he sleeps the night away, and bee comes into the bedroom, looms over him, gives him a kiss, and walks out quietly and spends his time hanging out with raf and trains while being shirtless 😍
Honestly, Bee KO and Raf are goals. Boyfriend goals, precious son goals, just life goals. Racer family is blessed with everything from looks to smarts to achievements and i love them so much!
I just want to say that even if eremika doesn’t become canon we can all still enjoy and love it. This really goes for any ship. Not getting canon is not the death of a ship. Everything you loved about it is still there. Canon is nice but it’s not necessary. Trust me it hurts like bitch to see your ship go down but after sometime you can still continue love your ship.
And we if we do get canon telling other people to leave because they aren’t canon is bullshit. If you do that then your trash. I don’t care how stupid the antis are don’t go around saying shit.
We won’t disappear if we don’t become canon and neither will other ships. Don’t be those people that act like canon means you own the whole manga and now your ship rules over the manga.
Again I’m talking to eremika because that’s what my blog is about but this applies to all ships, even ones not from this fandom.
Im tired of seeing this attitude in my other fandom and I pray I don’t see that shit here too. Especially if it’s us that get blessed with canon.
the saddest part of the whole WengerOut thing is that most of these fans have actually experienced all the glory days with him, they have enjoyed every one of his successful years. a lot of us newer fans have only read about those days and watched videos, and yet we have so much respect for the man and all that he has done for the club. it makes me sad that the fans with the first hand experience of the wins and celebrations can so easily disregard, if not forget, all his achievements and would go so far as to force him to leave. i dont deny a new manager may be good for the club in some aspects, but sometimes loyalty should stretch further than your love for your club, to the person who has been through it all with you and is probably more concerned with its present state than any fan can be.
what age is megalo? btw how would you feel about people drawing nsfw stuff of your oc
i don’t know what to do anymore, boys
i know its not a super difficult conclusion to come to, but i do every single fucking thing i can to tell people that the Megalomachia girls are not my characters.
It shouldn’t bug me much but it’s the most fucking annoying thing on this website to me honestly.
I’m not gonna NOT draw them or something cus that doesn’t help anybody, but it’s just the most irritating thing to repeat myself 10000000 fucking times and some random fuck comes over and ignores all of it. And i get things like this every other day.
Apparently there’s no solution to this and i’ll just have to deal with it forever, but i’m sure as hell not gonna just shut up about it.
Now, to actually answer this ask:
No official age so no clue.
I don’t really LIKE any porn of them, but its the internet you can do whatever the fuck you want. That goes for both the megalomachia girls and my actual OCs that are actually mine.