#and then when we went to the female

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[asthedeathoflight]

Thinking again about the tendency to try and sort loumand into victim/abuser which does them an injustice imo because the thing about loumand is that they're just so so bad for each other in a beautifully symmetrical way. If this were a textbook I would make a diagram but this is tumblr so just bear with me

Okay so first of all Louis and Armand are both attracted to things in each other that remind them of their abusers. Louis likes Armand being dramatic and old and sophisticated. Armand likes that Louis is contemplative, interested in art and culture. (we see this in his flirting technique, trying to show off his friendship with Sartre, which doesn't really work on Louis but would have worked on Marius, I think)

They also both excuse behaviors in each other that were present in their former abusive relationships because they believe that this is what they deserve (Armand) or that this is just how love between two vampires/men is (Louis). Armand is unphased by Louis feeling entitled to his body or not returning Armand's declarations of affection. Louis is certainly bothered by Armand being controlling and having a temper but seems to have done the math and determined that Armand is better than Lestat, so he doesn't really care.

Armand is also fairly obviously Marius-like in his relationship with Louis, believing that he knows what's best for Louis and ignoring issues of consent or power imbalance between them.

Now I think the place where people think the math works out to Louis being the victim is that Armand acts like both Lestat and Marius, but Louis does not act like Lestat, and the places where he acts like Marius are partially engineered by Armand himself. However I think the subtlety this ignores is that while Louis may not be behaving like Lestat, he IS behaving like his MOTHER. He's disdainful of Armand's vulnerability and perceived weakness, he's emotionally withdrawn, he's judgmental (through dreamstat), and he expects Armand to play the role of protector and provider while Louis verbally berates him and tells him he's nothing because that's just Armand's job in their little family unit.

In general i think Florence's abuse deserves a bigger spotlight when it comes to discussing Louis and his psychology, because Louis does not just have one abusive relationship to process but two and in fact went directly from being under his mother's control to being under Lestat's and that absolutely informs how he approaches his third attempt at domesticity with Armand.

[perseruna]

met morfydd and she was the kindest sweetest soul in the world 🫶 we talked for a bit and she signed my program for me which unfortunately got a bit damaged due to my clumsiness but oh my god lover her so so much ❤️

[watermel0ns-dumb-cringe]

If I had a nickel for every time I've became quickly attached to a character dubbed as Jane Doe I'd have three nickels. It isn't a lot but it's funny how it happened thrice

[xcziel]

has anybody else thought about how jk could easily manage sofia's parts of slow dance or is it just me?

[uss-genderprise]

i think poll blogs should start adding "other" options on polls that ask "are you white and do you x" like they have for gender specific polls for all the interracial people and the white passing people and the jews and the italians and the irish. schrodinger's white people

[ratatatastic]

He looks so different with glasses 😂 did not recognize him at first

terribly funny how much more generic he can get with a thick frame of raybans like ive always believed the whole glasses as a disguise would never work irl but i got punked so hard that when i first saw him in glasses i was like "oh another man" glossed over him then felt the same sensation as when i forget to buy milk at the store, swiped back, scrutinised this for far longer than im comfortable admitting publicly and went "oh my god THATS MY MAN GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING"

[piosplayhouse]

"bl should have more female characters that aren't just stuck in there to try to break up the main couple" Tianlang Jun is literally RIGHT THERE.

[jadewritesficshere]

Sitting Pretty

This is just pure filth like barely a plot ok 😫🥴

Eddie Munson x Female!reader

18+ONLY

Warnings: pet names (baby, pretty girl), slight degradation and condescending language (use of slut) (this really isn't degradation in my mind but that's cause I'm used to a lot worse so technically it is but), boot riding, squirting

Eddie dropped the box on the coffee table with a loud thud. It landed next to the other boxes he had carried, and the one you had. After a long day of work, he was tired. He wanted to sit down, relax, and do absolutely nothing. Of course, when you called and said you needed help moving boxes, he came. He knew he was entirely fucked. Wrapped around your fingers. You could tell him to jump and he'd ask how high.

Eddie pushed a strand of hair out of his face, it briefly getting caught on his fingers, making him shake his hand to get it unstuck. He glared at the partially grey hair still wound around his fingers (you said it made him look distinguished and metal. He couldn't complain too much at that). You set your own box on the table and smiled at him,"Thanks Eds, I know you're tired. It means a lot to me you would do this." Eddie hummed,"mhm. What is this stuff anyways?" "Oh, my uncle and aunt were getting rid of a bunch of stuff, so they gave it to my parents, who got rid of more stuff, aaaannnd dumped it on me," you shrugged," I'll go through it and see if there is anything good, then send it to the secondhand store."

Together, you and Eddie started going through the boxes. Eddie pretended to be wounded finding a dungeon master's guide, you found a harmonica and attempted to play a Corroded Coffin song (which had Eddie wheeze laughing and joking about adding a harmonica solo to their next single), he had tried on a pink jacket at your insistence while you had put on a hat that didn't fit (both of you traded items and agreed they looked better on each other then yourselves before promptly tossing the items back in the box), and then you struck gold.

You pulled out a pair of light brown leather cowboy boots. The intricate stitching on the side had caught your eye at the bottom of the box. The tips of the shoes slightly pointed and squared off. You blink at them and hand them to Eddie. Eddie looks at them before scoffing," Nope, those will squish my feet. You see the ends of them?" You roll your eyes," Eddie, if they hurt people's feet why would cowboys wear them? They work on their feet all day!" Eddie was tempted to tease you and say cowboys aren't real, but then you pout at him. The pout making your lips stand out caused him to hesitate. "Please?" He sighed and couldn't help but give you a quick kiss before grumbling and sitting to put the boots on. He could hear your faint cheers as he sat on the recliner.

Your focus was on the box in front of you until you heard Eddie clear his throat and ask,"Well, what do ya think?" You turned and-

Damn.

Eddie stood there with his hands on his hips. Your eyes trailed over him. His curly hair was frizzy from the humidity and a long day of working and sweating at the auto shop. His skin pale, save for a smear of oil on his cheekbone. His tank top showed off his arms beautifully, muscles straining, his bicep wrapped from a new tattoo he had gotten. The tank top tight against his skin, showing you his waist. You could see the bump at his belly button where his piercing was. His jeans were slightly loose, the only light wash pair he owned that he threw on when he hadn't done the laundry. Those stupid cowboy boots sat on his feet, the slight heel giving him extra height. He turned and held his arms out, striking a few poses. They weren't heels, but they made his ass pop (God, now you wanted to see him in heels). The light jeans making his ass look bigger, perfect to hold. Slap even.

"Ya know, they actually are kinda comfortable," Eddie turned back to face you with a smile," they don't- oof!" Eddie lands on the recliner with a grunt from you pushing him. He glares at you," you have to quit doing that! You're gonna strain my back or some shit." "Hm...stop being so fuckable then," you climb on top of his lap and lean close to his ear to whisper," besides, you like it." Eddie clears his throat and grasps your hips. You roll your hips slightly into his, watching him inhale sharply. The scruff of his unshaved jaw beckons you forward, kissing it lightly before trailing down his neck.

You nip and suck at his neck, smirking as he tilts his head to give you better access. His hands that firmly grasp your hips, shift to grab your ass instead. You hum as you pull back, staring at the glistening neck and the lovely purple mark you left. It may be childish to leave a hickey, but you couldn't help but want to mark Eddie up, adding shades of purple and red near his existing tattoos. Eddie's eyes are blown, his pale face flushed a deep red. You shift on top of him, rolling your hips into his again, feeling his hardening length. The feeling of you grinding against him makes him groan. Unbuttoning his jeans, you awkwardly try to unzip them, leaning back into Eddie's hands. He takes that moment to squeeze your ass. You whimper at the feeling and lean forward to kiss him, thoughts of removing his pants forgotten.

His lips are soft, slightly chapped, but still so plush against yours. Your mouths move in tandem, tongues darting out. Eddie licks into your mouth, groaning as he takes control. He sucks on the tip of your tongue before pulling back. Both of you taking deep breaths. "Take these off baby," Eddie mumbles, tugging at the hem of your shorts. You nod and clamber off him.

You push your shorts and panties down, balancing a hand on Eddie's knee as you step out of them. You go to get back on Eddie but he stops you," Now hold on, baby." You let out a whine in annoyance. Eddie chuckles and clicks his tongue at you," You seem all pent up, what's got you like this?" "You, now let me on-" "Nah, I think it's something else. Like my boots, Baby?" You nod emphatically, attempting to straddle Eddie again, but he puts his leg out in front of you. The sole of his boot presses against your stomach, and he pushes you back lightly. "Prove it pretty girl."

You pause and tilt your head slightly before grasping Eddie's boot covered ankle. Eddie nods to his foot and taps your stomach with the sole. You step back and bend at the hips, eyes locked with Eddie's, and kiss the tip of the boot. He chuckles and motions you with a finger to continue. You give the boot another kiss, and another. The leather firm against your mouth. Eddie smirks," You can do better then that." "I'm not licking the boot." You stand up and drop Eddie's foot with a thud. Eddie relaxes back spreading his legs, "Who said anything about licking? What's that saying...save a horse, ride a cowboy?"

You blink at him as your mouth falls open. Eddie taps the boot against the hardwood ground, causing clicks to echo. "Go on pretty girl." You can feel your arousal slowly drip down your thighs at the thought of Eddie's request. It was demeaning, dirty, and damn if it didn't delight you. You slowly kneel at Eddie's feet, lowering yourself until your core hit the leather.

The fabric was stiff and slightly rough against your pussy. Your arousal dripping onto the boot, causing it to slicken and make it easier to move. You look up from where you're situated to look at Eddie. You can't help the moan that escapes at the site of him. The once slightly baggy jeans are now very filled out from his bulge. One hand resting on it, squeezing lightly. The top of his unbuttoned jeans showing off his happy trail. The opal belly button piercing glinting in the light. The tattoo of the dragon above the jewelry moving with every deep breath he takes. A hickey on his pec from last week. The rest of his tattoos scattered about, glistening from sweat. The scruff on his jaw and neck. The grey hairs at his temples. The smirk on his face, even though it is flushed. The demeaning look he gives you.

You grind against the boot, faltering slightly under his gaze. "Look at you, sitting pretty," Eddie coos at you, patting your head. He knows you hate that, making you feel small. Stupid. "Such a good slut, making my boots all wet." His words make you clench around nothing, throbbing with want.

You buck your hips quicker against his boot. You shift angles slightly and moan as the boot rubs against your clit. The sensation is too much. The pleasure invades your brain, coherent thoughts gone. You feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. A tingly warmth spreading out from your core. "Fuck I'm-" your breath hitches and your hips fumble losing rhythm. "Come for me baby," Eddie grasps your jaw firmly, tilting your head up to face him," Drench my boots like the good slut you are, pretty girl." You gasp as the pressure builds to a crescendo. Your eyes close and you moan head falling back in pleasure. Lights flash behind your eyes as euphoria spreads throughout your limbs. You distantly feel the wetness gush as your hips buck wantonly. Your brain goes fuzzy with static from euphoria. You briefly hear Eddie moan a fuck.

You come back down to earth, loosening your grip on Eddie's thighs. You hadn't even realized you were gripping them. You scoot away from his boot, still on your knees. The light brown leather is soaked, turning a dark brown. A puddle of your release is on the boot, making you feel warm from embarrassment.

"Fucking hell...you squirted," Eddie shakes his head and chuckles. You stand on shaky legs, Eddie helping hold you in place. You glance down at the puddle slowly dripping off his shoe and onto the floor. "Can I ride you now?" You ask saccharinely.

"You're gonna have to give me a minute," Eddie's eyes dart away from yours, clearing his throat. He shifts and you glance at the movement. His jeans are slightly loose again. The light denim jeans having turned dark at a wet spot. "Made me come like a fucking teenager," Eddie stands grabbing your hand. He tugs on your arm, leading you towards the bedroom.

You were definitely keeping the cowboy boots.

[oncamelliastreet]

the amount of people who see something on the internet and just straight up believe it without any further thought is utterly shocking and terrifying.

like, for example, i could comment on some random video, “you know agatha all along is actually homophobic,” and somebody who has NEVER WATCHED A MINUTE OF A MARVEL SHOW and someone would guaranteed, 1000%, comment “you know i’ve never even seen this show but i can’t believe they would be homophobic in this day and age,” and im not even exaggerating.

i just saw a post on shows that swivel the plot completely out of spite once they realize that their audience is women when they wanted it to be men, and someone mentioned 5 seconds of summer. another person agreed, basically saying, “i haven’t heard any of their music, but back in 2014 they were riding the coattails of one direction pretty hard, so i can’t believe they would do that.”

please. stop. talking. 5 seconds of summer are nothing but 1000000% thankful for their female fans. hoping that their fanbase will extend to people who aren’t women is not a weird desire to have, because obviously any artist wants support from as many people as possible, that doesn’t mean they hate the audience they have. 5sos has never done anything to spite their female audience, in fact, they actively support us! for every tour they have, they have a band that is either all female or that has female led vocalists because they know that there are teenage girls and young women at their shows and want them to feel inspired. they have said numerous times that they are nothing but completely grateful for their fans. they are one of the few bands i’ve found that has such an incredibly deep bond with their listeners, and saying that they wished more guys listened to their music does not mean they have changed how they make music to get a more male audience. in fact, they’ve gotten MORE pop as of late, a genre that commonly has female listeners. also worth noting that opening for an artist does not mean they were “riding the coattails” of one direction, they literally just opened for them and got more fans because of it. which is like. the entire point of an opening act. like that is the entire point, of course they have similar fans to one direction. hello.

okay, i kind of went on a rant their because it just pissed me off, but the point is, if you don’t know anything about a topic, you don’t have to comment on it. if you haven’t heard of a band in 10 years, and you haven’t heard any of their music, and you don’t know anything about their members outside of what some rando online has commented which may or may not be true, YOU DONT HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING. DO A GOOGLE SEARCH. FIND A FAN ACCOUNT AND ASK THEM. ANYTHING. JUST BE NORMAL, PLEASE.

and please, for the love of god, stop believing literally everything you see and hear online. please.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Domestic Bees pt. 2 - Pregnancy/Baby edition!

Yang: Blake, is there a reason there are five pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter?

Blake: I was worried about false positives or negatives.

Yang: *confusion* uhhh...

Blake: Yes, Weiss gave me the idea.

Yang: *clarity* Ah!

*absent-mindedly looks at the tests* How vibrant is the second line on these things usually?

Blake: What?!

Yang: Yeah, there's a faint second line on all of these.

Kali and Raven: *break through window* WHAT?!

[roseworth]

dreaming of a world where the bear never introduced claire as a character

[megaclubdiolis]

柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第二十八回 「一帝二后」 ​​​

[decidueyedreamerdetails]

General Lore - Formation of Cosmog and Evolution of Cosmoem

Unlike the majority of Pokémon, Cosmog are not hatched from eggs - instead, they are formed from the union of a Solgaleo and Lunala, quite similar to how stars form from nebula!

In this union, both the Solgaleo and Lunala shed some of their matter - this matter coalesces together, and then condenses, forming a new Cosmog!

Furthermore, the idea that a ‘female’ Cosmoem evolves into a Lunala and a ‘male’ Cosmoem evolves into a Solgaleo is entirely incorrect - the line is sexless, after all. Instead, Cosmoem’s evolution depends on how bright its surroundings are, although NOT the time of day. The amount of light needed to evolve into a Solgaleo rather than a Lunala seems to depend on the individual Cosmoem, however, so there may be some truth to the idea that they are predisposed to one evolution over the other.