on a side note, this blog is now 2 years old
Do you ever really think about the grains? Every little one’s got a million things. Every little bit’s got a billion bits, and that ain’t it, no that ain’t it. And did you know that when you really get close, nothing really touches, bro, just kind of floats? So when you think it might just come to blows. Just so you know, it won’t, because it can’t, BRO.
okay i couldn’t deal with it so i deleted all drafts except the star wars thread i have with @traiitxr in a bid to get things going on this blog again.
▏▶︎Ŧ-И◀︎▕
❝nah, s’never. who could i——— i mean, the other stormtroopers would but—❞ whatever else he wants to say dissolve into the quiet mumble that spills into the neck of the amber bottle hanging between his fingers. it’s almost empty, which is deemed a problem given how finn frowns into it before letting it roll with a thud on the ground.
his hands are the only things holding him upright as finn takes in the wondrous stars above him, the way they twinkle and shine, the promise of hundreds and thousands of planets before him. infinite possibilities and he’s here. with the resistance.
or more presently, here with richard rider, talking about all the things finn hasn’t done. his head lolls to the side, to similarly glazed eyes, almost obsidian in the twilight. his pale skin is bathed in it, turning smooth as moonstone before finn’s very ( drunken ) gaze and without conscious thought, they trace over the fullness of his lips, wet from the couple of drinks they’ve had.
he’s not sure how it happens, one minute they’re just staring at each other but in the next, finn’s licking the taste of liquor from richard’s lips, fitting their mouths together as their shoulders knock and he has to balance on one hand if he ever wants to cup richard’s face ( and he does ). when they part, his lungs scream for breath, his eyes widen with clarity, finn doesn’t move far away. ❝should’ve probably asked.❞
though they may be presently stranded on some planet — yet again, it thankfully doesn’t come with the constant danger these situations usually entails, which is how finn and richard find themselves here, sharing a bottle that they’d managed to scour up. the buzz of alcohol has him feeling relaxed, more than just he has been for months (years if he’s being honest), and it’s something almost foreign. yet, his soul grips it tight like a vice, a balm for a much damaged centre. his laugh comes out rich and alive, unadulterated, uncensored in the silence of the almost night.
times like these are the only reprieve he gets — they both get — from the fast paced action of their lives; not lives either of them really chose, but well they made the best from it either way. took it and owned it completely. times like these are rare enough that he realises he doesn’t know a lot there is to know about the ex-trooper, just the splatters of information gleamed from his file, not to mention interactions and missions and downtime together. times like these when he plays ‘have you ever’ with the other in a bid to get to know the other better.
finn’s eyes glint in the darkness, starlight reflecting off irises, and his own eyes flicker to meet his gaze, and then — oh! — he reacts the only way he can, reciprocating the unexpected turn of events, leaning up and kissing him back easily.
he smiles soft when their eyes meet again, before it turns into a full blown grin, “it’s — great, actually.” and richard grips the other’s chin and presses his lips sweet against finn’s in another kiss.
marvel: “the cancerverse is a reality where nothing dies” and "death was defeated”
richard rider, dead in the cancerverse: sounds fake but ok
We are getting close to answering the age old questions: Why are we here? Where did we come from? Does the Universe, in fact, have a beginning or an end? And if so, what are they like? If we find the answer to that, it would be the ultimate triumph of Human reason. We would know the mind of God.
"if yOU WANNA AKA YOLO"
finn’s kissing booth (not accepting)
@ncvaprime▏▶︎Ŧ-И◀︎▕
❝nah, s’never. who could i——— i mean, the other stormtroopers would but—❞ whatever else he wants to say dissolve into the quiet mumble that spills into the neck of the amber bottle hanging between his fingers. it’s almost empty, which is deemed a problem given how finn frowns into it before letting it roll with a thud on the ground.
his hands are the only things holding him upright as finn takes in the wondrous stars above him, the way they twinkle and shine, the promise of hundreds and thousands of planets before him. infinite possibilities and he’s here. with the resistance.
or more presently, here with richard rider, talking about all the things finn hasn’t done. his head lolls to the side, to similarly glazed eyes, almost obsidian in the twilight. his pale skin is bathed in it, turning smooth as moonstone before finn’s very ( drunken ) gaze and without conscious thought, they trace over the fullness of his lips, wet from the couple of drinks they’ve had.
he’s not sure how it happens, one minute they’re just staring at each other but in the next, finn’s licking the taste of liquor from richard’s lips, fitting their mouths together as their shoulders knock and he has to balance on one hand if he ever wants to cup richard’s face ( and he does ). when they part, his lungs scream for breath, his eyes widen with clarity, finn doesn’t move far away. ❝should’ve probably asked.❞