#is tagging all of them overkill?

[wemlygust]

DP x DC fics are pools of cool and precious water amid the boiling volcano of the present moment.

[cicada-circuitry]

#God tho this does make me want to pull back up that notebook fic snippet i had#of Margo confronting Molly about this too but like with science.#Margo would know. Just saying. She knows. ⃪ does this mean you have Molly/Margo fic?

Hi anon! sorry this is now several days late but boy do I. ( watched FAMK for the first time in February, wound up with Pages and pages of fic snippets (for a couple ships, margo x molly included) in chicken scratch on physical paper which is always a great sign that im being normal about a show, thought I'd cure myself if I just watched the whole thing a second time and absolutely only made it worse. )

I meant to answer this ask by just typing up the quick excerpt of the fic I was talking to myself in the tags about but...... started typing and did not stop. It lives over here now! Was not the one of the notebook fics I thought would see the light of day but you know? why not.

(I assume if you're here you, like me, have already read all the fics to be found but if you have Not read everything in that tag already, highly recommend. this fandom may be small but boy did it have good food on offer when I rolled in four years late fresh off a few episodes and absolutely screaming.)

Since I went ahead and dropped that one on ao3 at like 4am i'll throw in something a little more typical of the the notebook archives - how about this thing that exists entirely bc i noticed that used bookstore you can see beside the Outpost in season 1 and it gave me Ideas

Sometime post crossword-quiz / pre- run-in at the Jazz club.  

Margo walks fast past the Outpost on her way over to Bargain Books. When she can, she prefers to park down at the other end of the street and not have to go by that eyesore of a bar in the first place, but when you double the size of the astronaut program with twenty female ascans, you turn street parking into a blood sport. On her salary, no way is she playing chicken with the corvettes, not even to avoid mustering a polite smile for a coworker at his inebriated worst. 

Most days, that’s only an issue if she swings by after dark, the hour when everybody’s trickling out and stumbling home for the evening. Otherwise, the dingy whitewashed plywood keeps a nice impenetrable wall between book-seeking passers-by and drunken test pilots. Today, however, a spell of perfect weather is conspiring against her. Someone has the door propped open with a rusty paint can, letting the sound of laughter of clinking glass spill through it onto the sidewalk. 

A flash of green catches Margo’s eye before she can make it past. Despite herself, she recognizes that shade in an instant. It’s the flannel shirt she had to reprimand earlier that afternoon for bringing a lit cigarette into the sim. Molly Cobb, bent over a pool table, chin twisted up towards Patty Doyle, grinning like a woman about to win.  

Just Margo’s luck that this is the perfect time of day—indoor light matching outdoor light—for Molly to catch her eye straight through the open door as she makes her shot. 8-ball, dead in the pocket. 

For no reason she can think of, Margo feels heat rushing up into her cheeks. 

She stalks into Bargain Books in a hurry. 

The sweater-vested owner behind the front desk gives her the polite nod reserved for a good customer (and disinterested conversationalist) as she beelines for Paperback Fiction. She finished Matheson’s Ride the Nightmare last night— should have picked up two when she noticed how short it was in the first place, but nothing else tickled her fancy when she was in here a week ago, so here she is again, browsing spines. Maybe it's time to cave and finally grab a 10¢ copy of Rosemary's Baby from the stack on the end, seeing as it’s the one highly recommended title in her genre-of-choice the entire country seems to have read in the last couple years, but she already knows the ending (and the entire premise of demonic pregnancy does not appeal for tuning out after the work day). 

She’s dubiously eying the back-cover blurb on a Chandler detective thriller instead when a voice over her shoulder says, “Oh, Patty loves this shit.” 

To her great chagrin, Margo jumps, gasps, and drops her book. “Jesus, Molly.” 

“My bad.” 

Molly squats down to pick it up, slouchy brown corduroy flexing over her thighs. She fixes a bend in the cover before offering it back to her, but when Margo tries to take it away, Molly doesn’t let go. Instead, she adopts a playfully quirked brow and tugs it back towards herself inch-by-inch, bringing Margo, frowning, a step closer than she was before. “Came here to see if I could talk you into a drink.” 

Margo’s voice comes out approximately four steps too high as she looks around for some explanatory audience and says incredulously, “In there?” with a jerk of her thumb towards the Outpost’s adjoining wall. 

“Yeah. NASA central, shithole though it may be, but I never see you around.” 

“Well, I’m not an astronaut.” 

“Neither are the five white-shirts who monopolize the best booth in the back six nights a week. They don’t check for a pin at the door, Madison. That’d be no way to run a business. It’s a bar. Come have a drink with me.” 

“With… you.” She asks because she expects there to be an and. Me and the other ascans. Me and the rest of you white-shirt types in the back. Me and Patty Doyle. 

But Molly just raps the cover of The Lady in the Lake with her knuckles and says again, “With me.”

[3416]

contemplating making a whole separate blog to basically act as a 1634 primer instead of the written out ones i have... is that psychotic or am i onto smth---

[meringuejellyfish]

here we go, i went ahead and made more proper compilations of neopet brushes for my silly purposes

- the idea is that you take requests where others will give you a brush and a character, and after that you just go crazy and interpret it however you like ! -

 this has been one of my favorite art challenge concepts for years, it just itches something in my brain.

 -> my one piece of personal advice for this is that going with instinct and interpreting a brush however you like is good, but if youre looking for a little inspiration then seeing how different pets look when painted by certain brushes can be fun! for example, the transparent brush makes their skeletons visible, and maraquan is aquatic themed !

brushes excluded (for a multitude of reasons

-stone paint brush

-lutari island paint brush

-invisible paint brush

-lost desert paint brush

-mystery island paint brush

-scritchy sketchy paint brush

-swamp gas paint brush (sorry to the true swamp gas heads out there i guess.

-tyrannian paint brush

[humanrebel]

Love the instant karma of "I'm taking out our super mega kaiju defense mech to fight these children" and then said children destroy the super mega kaiju defense mech right before a super mega kaiju shows up

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[jeffsinnbythesea]

Can anyone plug any season 2 Spotify playlists? Any collaborative ones you endorse? I'd love to see what y'all have come up with but I'm overwhelmed at how many are floating around out there!

I am trying not to be genrephobic; I love an eclectic mix!

[lisianpeia]

I got so excited listening to the playlists people shared that I actually made one. So here it is. I’ve never done this before XD

anyone know a good spones playlist?

[lilylovestowrite]

We all know that Aventurine's love language is definitely gift giving! So I would like to request aventurine spoiling his s/o with so much money and gifts. At first reader was thankful and also flustered with all of the gifts he provided for her, but later reader started to become annoyed cause he's been spoiling them too much, so one day they decided to text aventurine about this matter. They only just called his name and he already thought that they needed money so he sent the money. Reader was surprised at first but then got annoyed and decided to scold him in the chat (to which aventurine didn't take them seriously and even teases them, finding amusement with his lover's anger) make this a playful banter between the two and at the end, aventurine decided to meet up with them to pamper them, but this time, with affection ✨

MUST BE FUNNY, IN A RICH MAN'S WORLD ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ (Aventurine x GN! Reader)

WARNINGS ୨♡୧ None

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ You decide to confront your boyfriend over his overzealous spending habits. 

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1.4k

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I love Aventurine SO MUCH. I want to hold him and cherish him but I think he deserves to be thrown down a flight of stairs because he’s such a brat. I am so normal about this man.

Divider by @/cafekitsune

‘I saw you eyeing this crystal swan the other day. When you and I get married, I’ll buy the whole store and decorate our venue with them if it’s to your liking- Kakavasha’

You are going to kill your boyfriend. 

You are going to kill your boyfriend over a Swarovski Swan on your bedside table. And thirty bottles of the same Dior perfume you wore once around him. And every piece of designer clothing he’s gifted you. And that one time he rented out a whole cruise ship just to play tag with you over a moonlit river. Well, perhaps not the last one. You liked the idea, the execution? A little overkill.

But this? Overkill can’t even begin to explain how much Aventurine has been spending on you recently. Just before you started dating, he would regularly spoil you with large bouquets of your favourite flowers and a few lovely pieces of jewellery. It was sweet at first: you remember blushing and hiding your flustered face behind your palm, only for him to kiss your hand and usher it away. “Stop, you look super cute when you’re flustered,” he’d say, but now, a deep pit of shame hollows the joy out of every gift he gives you. He gives, and gives, and spoils you, but what do you have to offer? 

You do appreciate his gestures, and it feels lovely to be kitted out in the finest gossamer, or the softest of silks. The aroma of expensive perfume smells less chemical-ly and manufactured compared to your old bottles. There isn’t a day that goes by where your flower vases in your house aren’t filled with high-end flowers. It’s affection, sure, but, you wish he didn’t feel as if your love is something to be bought. 

With Aventurine, you have to be careful with your communication. He may play off other people’s rude comments about his origin or his affiliation with the IPC. Other people’s opinions don’t matter. But you know how much he cherishes you, and you don’t fit into the bracket of ‘other people’. If you seem too dismissive of his efforts, you fear that he may feel rejected. Picturing his sad face drooping makes you only want to let him coddle you, but you can’t allow this to happen anymore. You ponder your text carefully, before hitting send. 

You: 

Kakavasha. 

Peacock <3: 

My love? 

Are you upset with me?

I’m so sorry, let me handle it. 

Oh, wow. That was a quick fix. You sigh in relief and put your phone down, allowing yourself to get more comfortable in the covers. Another ping erupts from your phone, and the notification nearly makes you turn around and sob. 

Peacock <3 has sent you 1,000,000 Credits

You: 

STOP SENDING ME MONEY

I’M NOT YOUR SUGAR BABY FFS 

So much for being ‘careful with your communication’, but 1,000,000 credits is insanity! Does he think he can buy you off? You sigh and watch the text bubbles load as he types. 

Peacock <3:

Darling, what do you mean?

I want to spoil you! 

And if I’ve done something wrong, I’ll make it up to you!

You:

Then. Maybe. ASK

‘What’s wrong?’

BEFORE SENDING ME A SHITLOAD OF CREDITS

Peacock <3:

What’s wrong, angel? 

You reread your messages and realise how aggressive you're coming off, so you decide to talk to him face to face. Surely, his suave tongue and pretty face won't distract you from the matter at hand. Right?

You:

Let’s call.

You have started a call with Peacock <3

“Kakavasha, stop sending me money!” You hiss the second he picks up the phone. It’s the early morning, and hues of liquid sunlight paint your lover’s skin in light gold. Streaks of light coming through the blinds of his window shine through his gorgeous eyes, turning them translucent like opalescent marble. Aventurine gives you a tiny lopsided grin, the same one that creeps onto his face when he’s plotting something, and you don’t like it one bit. “

“How else am I supposed to show my adoration for you?” His silken, honeyed voice echoes through the phone. You have to stop yourself from giggling at his lovely voice, the cadence rising and falling masterfully, all perfectly orchestrated to let you listen to him instead of arguing. 

But you don’t take the bait yet. 

“I don’t know, maybe spend time with me?” You reply, but you can’t conceal the blush on your face when you realise that he’s only just woken up. His light blond hair is tousled and one of the cat cakes stretches on his lap. Although Aventurine dresses to impress, it’s the domesticated, sweet mornings where he truly shines. 

“I do spend time with you. We went to see the Opera just three nights ago!”

“Without money being spent, Kakavasha. I want a simple, romantic date. No renting out hotels, no extravagant jewellery, and no mariachi band like that one time-” 

“In my defence, I was completely wasted-” He interjects, giggling softly at the memory of planning a lovely beach date after consuming wine like water, and then ordering a band on a whim.

“You were barely awake, I drew a moustache on you.” You muse. Watching Aventurine’s face morph into an angry pout, like a kitten, makes you emit an ugly laugh. 

“That was you?” He gasps, clutching his heart with faux sorrow. Dramatically falling back on his black pillow, his golden locks are spread. Aventurine’s half lidded gaze and light pink blush makes you want to crawl into bed next to him and trace patterns into his hands, and his lovely eyes would-

“Don’t distract me from the matter at hand! Please stop spending on me, sweetheart. I’m not saying I don’t like your love, I want it! Just not in such an excessively materialistic way, you know?” 

This comment breaks Aventurine’s suave attitude. He blinks at you through the camera, positively perplexed. His eyes are wide and shocked, resembling that of a deer tasting cardboard. “H-how else am I supposed to show my love for you?” 

“Well, how do I show my love for you?”

Aventurine’s eyes look up, trying to recall: “You hold my hands,” he lists one on his fingers,  “listen to me when I speak, you support me through hard times,” he smiles warmly at you, flashing a toothy grin that makes his nose scrunch up cutely, bring back pebbles that remind you of me…” A devious smirk makes its way into his face and you prepare yourself to interject: “and you bite my as-” 

“Enough!” You reprimand him, but your tone is soft. “See? I don’t buy things for you to feel loved. You’re much more than a bank, even if other people don’t make you feel that way.” Suddenly bashful, Kakavasha looks away from you. Perhaps unused to such affections, he hugs the cat cake on his lap closer to his chest. 

“I just want to give you the best of the best.” He replies defensively, and you sigh softly.

“You are the best of the best, Kakavasha.” 

“Then,” his voice cracks in an attempt to hide his shyness, “let’s meet up at your place. Let’s stay inside and watch a movie? I hear that’s a popular date idea.” 

“Perfect. My door is open, we can do face masks and-” The call is interrupted by one of the cat cakes jumping on his head, causing him to tumble off the bed and clutch onto the sheets for stability. Instead, his finger hits the end call button. You giggle softly. For all of his cocky displays, Aventurine, at his truest form, is just a little bit of a dork. 

Said dork knocks at your door, dressed in a lovely black dress shirt and his white pants. You suddenly feel a little self conscious, in your bunny slippers and oversized dress shirt. But the way he hugs you and lifts you off the ground slightly for a kiss, it makes you feel like a national treasure. You waddle your way onto the couch, still hugging, and collapse into the plush cushions.

“So, what movie are we feeling today?” Aventurine pulls a blanket over the two of you, and your eyes brighten with an idea. “The Great Gatsby?” 

“Mm, tragic ending. No. Let’s hold that thought.” He leans over and gently pries the remote out of your hand. “Instead,” he kisses your nose and pushes you into the couch a little more, “let me show you even more ways I can show my affection for you.” He whispers, and captures your lips for a deep kiss…

[hawkinsbnbg]

shooting stars

prompts: backseat, bruise, clothes on | @steddiesmuttyseptember

tags: mutual pining, fwb to lovers, hand job, blow job, come swallowing, soft dom Eddie Munson, good boy Steve Harrington.

word count: 2k4 | rated: E | ao3

Steve didn't know how he ended up having Eddie Munson between his legs in the backseat of his car of all places.

Oh yeah, the spinning bottle had pointed at him and Tommy had dared him to go teach The Freak a lesson.

Steve doubted Tommy would've come up with that if he knew the little game Steve had been playing with Eddie since the beginning of his senior year.

Still, he complied. There was no way he would pass up such an opportunity to go search for Eddie without raising suspicion on them both.

"No, you stay here," he gave Tommy a cocky smile, tuning up his King persona to the ten. "Sending me is already overkill. It'd be a fucking joke if I even need you to take down The Freak."

Steve let the hollers and mocking laughter wash over him, feeling both at home and wrong-footed in the skin he was wearing.

He couldn't wait to get out of there and be as far away from those people as possible, knowing Eddie would make everything right again even just for a night.

The party-goers had been none the wiser when he wandered to the backyard of Tina's house, heading to Eddie's regular dealing corner and told the metalhead to meet him at the quarry where no one would bother them.

One thing led to another, instead of dragging him to the back of the van like usual, Eddie chose his beamer to be their destination of the night.

Given the limited space, their frantic movements slowed down after a while, panting into each other's mouths and melding their tongues together.

And yet, their clothes were still on because they liked to keep up the pretense, liked to deny that they cared.

As if Steve didn't secretly protect Hellfire from the jocks all the time, as if Eddie didn't shush him softly as he cried the other night, shield him from the darkness and call him baby.

It was confusing, the trajectory of their not-friendship; but it was intoxicating, the way they gravitated to each other without fail.

"Why here?" Steve asked, chest heaving up and down as Eddie quickly worked his belt and flies open.

The inside of the beamer's backseat—however spacious it had been before—was now cramped with two grown boys, all muscles and gangly limbs.

And Steve was no cheerleaders, either. He couldn't curl up to make himself as small as those girls. Fortunately, he was flexible enough for Eddie to mold however the metalhead liked, forcing his legs apart with pure teenage brawn.

"Wanna see what's the fuss over the famous Harrington Backseat about," Eddie murmured, licking a stripe on his hand before shoving it down Steve's briefs, stroking him right away without any lube.

Steve hissed at the burning stimulation and the raw friction of those chunky rings, but he was already dripping too much precum to feel uncomfortable with them. If anything, he quite enjoyed it whenever Eddie was a little rough and mean to him.

"Yeah?" Steve bit his lip, aware of those dark eyes following his movements like trackers, sending shivers down his spine. "And what's your opinion so far?"

To be honest, Steve never understood the appeal of having sex in the backseat. The space was never enough for two people to move freely.

He simply did it because it was more convenient that way; less risk of falling off the roofs and windowsills, less time of cleaning up, no need to worry about which ways were better for sneaking out once the deed was done.

Then again, with Eddie looming above him and those calloused fingers enclosed his cock like heated brands, he supposed he finally got it.

"Not as bad as I expected," Eddie mouthed at the column of Steve's throat when he threw his head back in a strangled moan. "Maybe it's because of a certain pretty thing here."

Steve whined and bucked his hips, wanting to fuck into the tight circle of Eddie's palm, but he was pinned in place by Eddie's weight—solid and warm and heavy. It messed with his tipsy brain, making him feel small and helpless, knowing he was entirely at the older boy's mercy.

"So wet already," Eddie kissed his jaw, thumb rubbing Steve's sensitive tip meanly, prompting another breathless moan from him. "Just needing someone to take care of you, hm, little prince?"

Cheeks flaming red, Steve felt his breath hitched, felt his inside loosened up and turned into molasses.

He knew it was just an act to set the mood, but Eddie's honeyed words did weird things to him, causing his heart to stutter and soar higher and higher, reminding him too much of love that it was a little bit scary.

Although Steve couldn't physically melt into the leather seats, he felt like he already did as Eddie played with his cock, pulling embarrassing noises out of him effortlessly, feeding him sweet filths between fervent kisses, gnawing his lips until they swelled up, until they were red and shiny like cherries.

Those sharp teeth trailed down his neck, sinking into the tender flesh and carving their marks on the bronzed skin, leaving bloody bruises behind.

The pain made it real, made Steve feel owned, possessed.

As if he was good enough to be kept, as if he was worth more than a pretty face and a quick fuck.

Steve knew he wasn't thinking rationally, he should be realistic and stop expecting Eddie to reciprocate his hopeless feelings.

He longed for it still, yearned to be touched, to be held by those arms every night, unable to keep himself from daydreaming about the what-ifs.

"Tell me," Eddie wrapped a hand around his throat, never too tight but always enough to turn Steve's head fuzzy. "Who do you belong to?"

The question came out of nowhere, shocking Steve to the core. Because whatever they had between them wasn't like that, was it?

Steve was The King and Eddie was The Freak. Two parallel lines that would never meet.

And yet, they crossed paths. Innumerable times. Rushing into each other like moths to the flame, knowing they would burn and explode, knowing they would ignite and crash like shooting stars.

Transient.

Beautiful.

But Steve refused to let them be a tragedy as long as he could help it. Refused to hide behind the forsaken fortress he had built up for years.

Because Eddie deserved better, and all Steve could offer was himself.

"Y– Yours," he mumbled, eyes half-lidded as if he was drunk. "'M yours, D– Daddy."

Eddie's gaze was dark and heavy on him, bottomless and ravenous as they drank in his debauched state; disheveled hair, flushed skin, teary eyes, swollen red lips, redder cock drooling over the white cotton and thick denim.

For a second, Steve was afraid he had ruined it, had exposed himself too much with that slipup, but Eddie didn't even pause, he just grinned wildly, looking unhinged as he made his demand.

"Again."

"'M yours, Daddy," Steve babbled, losing his mind over the encroaching orgasm, curling his toes and arching his back off the seat as he reached the peak. "Yours."

Without preamble, Eddie spat into his gaping mouth and Steve's eyes just rolled back as he shot off, dirtying his jeans and shirt as well as Eddie's hand.

Eddie kissed him—for no other reason than to eat his whimpers right from his mouth—humming and moaning as if tasting ambrosia, not just saliva and the lingering sweetness of cocktails Steve had religiously knocked back during the party.

What came next was the belt's clacking noises. It sounded distant to him, like his brain couldn't catch up with his surroundings anymore.

But Steve was a man of habit. So it was no surprise when moments later, he blinked back to reality and found himself sucking the head of Eddie's cock, tonguing the slit and tasting bitter musk as Eddie groaned and gave a few quick strokes before coming into his mouth.

Greedily, Steve swallowed everything, licking and drinking until Eddie grabbed his hair harshly to stop him.

He was still quite dazed as Eddie cleaned him up, as Eddie redressed him, as Eddie guided him to the van and bundled him in a soft quilt that smelled like weed and smoke and drugstore soap.

The quilt was his comfort blanket, which Eddie never questioned him about, just always happened to have it around whenever Steve needed it.

And somehow, that was the first reason Steve fell for him.

Shaking his head to the joint Eddie offered, Steve leaned on the metal wall of the van and sipped slowly from the bottle of water he had been handed, basking in the peaceful silence that he rarely had for himself these days.

Then, he shifted his gaze to Eddie, meeting those intense eyes, and set the bottle down beside him.

"Thank you."

"What for?" Eddie tilted his head, as if curious, as if wanting to observe him more clearly.

"Everything," Steve shrugged and toyed with the hem of the quilt, feeling his cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I mean, I was and still am an ass to you. But you always treat me with kindness, and well, make me feel like a real person, not just some– some puppets mindlessly dancing to the music. And I'm glad that I had accepted your offer that day."

"Don't sell yourself so short, Harrington," Eddie snorted, turning his face away briefly to blow out the smoke before looking back at him. "I get it. You have more things to lose than I do so 'course you gotta put on some acts to ward off your nosy subjects. Besides, it's not like I don't benefit from our transaction, or I'm a Saint, either. But it doesn't matter, does it? You and I, we both got something out of this. And that's enough for me."

Steve felt his stomach drop. So that was just a moment of heat, then. He was the idiot to believe it had been real.

And Eddie had said all of that so bluntly, leaving him no delusions to think there was something more between them.

"Okay," he said dully, pulling the quilt tighter around himself to keep the sudden coldness away.

"Fuck," Eddie cursed under his breath and snuffed out the joint in the ashtray nearby before moving closer to him. "Stevie, sweetheart, please look at me."

He had half a mind to ignore the older boy, but his gaze could never not be drawn to Eddie. It was as easy as breathing, a natural thing that had been written into his DNA.

"What?" He looked up, allowing some irritation to seep into his voice.

"I'm not good at this, Jesus Christ," Eddie muttered, fingers carding through frizzy hair and pulling a curl to chew on it anxiously, big brown eyes honed on him. "I'm gonna be honest with you here, Stevie. I never thought I'd have a chance with you, let alone kiss or touch you. But then I did and that's already crazy, you know? 'Cause we're not even friends who greet each other in the hallways like real people. We're just what? Strangers with benefits? Fuck-acquaintances? And don't forget that you had to lie to your friends to sneak out to see me. That they're still thinking you're beating me up right now."

Which was sadly true.

Steve could see why Eddie was so reluctant to get close to him. There were too many problems between them, and they were complicated enough to give Steve a headache.

Then again, he still wanted to try. Because Eddie was the only one who really looked beneath all of those layers to see him. Which was already much more than what other people (including his parents) had done for Steve.

As if reading his mind, Eddie chuckled wryly.

"And you know what's funny?"

"What?"

"That no matter how hard I tried, I still can't get you out of my mind."

Steve inhaled sharply.

"Yeah," Eddie smiled self-deprecatingly, one hand coming up to brush the bruises on the side of Steve's neck. "And the thing is I don't like to share. I'm a possessive motherfucker, sweetheart. Once I'm obsessed with something, I'm gonna keep it and take good care of it."

Eddie sounded insane even to Steve's muddled brain, and that was saying something. Still, he only found himself enraptured by it, deaf to the siren blaring in his head.

"But you're too pretty to be hidden away, sunshine," long fingers moved up to tuck a hair behind Steve's ear, sliding down the curve of it to trace the line of his jaw and his cheekbones, drawing constellations on his skin. "You should be put on the altar, put on the display to show people how gorgeous you are. Let them covet, let them beg for a glimpse of your beauty."

Steve's eyes fluttered shut as those fingers enveloped his throat again, squeezing just right to make his head go silent.

"And I'd be there," Eddie murmured in his ear, making the heat travel down his navel. "Befoul you with my devotion, and brand you with my name. And they'd be so jealous of me, 'cause the angel they worship is already mine."

Steve groaned, growing hard again at the vision Eddie conjured up in his mind. He felt dizzy, floaty, and tender. He wanted to live in this precious moment forever.

"Still wanna be my boy, sweet thing?" Eddie nuzzled his cheek. "When you know how crazy I am?"

"Keep me," Steve whispered, swaying into the only source of warmth that he knew of. "Don't let me go."

When I've got you, baby was pressed on his lips, when those arms caught him and tugged him close, embraced him with promises of love and protection; Steve knew he was finally home.

If the following day, he pissed Tommy and probably most of the jocks off by sticking up to The Freak, then well, Hellfire was ready to extend an olive branch to the former king of Hawkins High.

Because who was they to not welcome their DM's beloved prince?

And some years down the road, when Steve became a primary teacher and Eddie opened up a garage, when they bought a house and settled down together, they would tell their children that they used to be high school sweethearts.

And it wouldn't be a lie.

[its-nate-the-sharpshot]

Open rp: burn it all down

Tw: violence, burning buildings, intentional murder, mental breakdown

Nate’s violence had been getting worse. Way worse. He kept coming home broken and beaten and soaked in blood after vanishing for days on end. No matter what anyone said, no matter how hard anyone tried to keep him inside and safe he always got away, and more people ended up dead. Overkill? Sure. But the people he hurt deserved it. And yeah this wasn’t ’normal’ sixteen year old stuff but he hadn’t been a kid in a very long time, as well as he plastered a smile on his face and kept joking. Kept laughing.

There was a warrant out for his arrest and a list of names scratched out one by one in his room. Over 300 down, just 12 left, and they were all in one building. He’d dropped off the radar for almost a week, no contact with anyone. Until his little appearance now.

Nate stood outside on the street, flicking his lighter on and off. Yards and yards of fuse and literal gallons on petrol were now inside that building, every vent and wall and unused room one spark away from flame. And he had the spark.

Other people would get hurt, other people would die. The fire would spread. But at this point he didn’t really care, not anymore. The idea of suffering was numbed, and the thought of finally, finally killing the people he’d been after the whole time filled him with a giddy excitement he didn’t want to think too hard about.

They killed my mom. I’m gonna stop them from doing it in the first place.

Nate smiled to himself as he flicked the lighter on one last time and lit the fuse at his feet, the spark running across it and vanishing into a pipe in the building’s wall. In ten minutes the thing would be ablaze, and those monsters would be dead. He could finally sleep at night.

Until he heard something behind him. Footsteps. A familiar voice.

No no no no no not now, any time but now

“You know it’s kinda rude to stalk people? Especially when they’re busy”

————————————————————

//AND THUS we begin Nate’s proper villain arc. He is acting not normal and very irrational and will lash out. He is completely beyond reason and your efforts will fail. This is an angst rp proceed with caution. I’m gonna tag people but PLEASE don’t interact if you don’t feel 100% up to it.

@clintbarton-thearrowguy @laura-barton-shield @the-good-redheaded-witch @natt-romanoff @under0-0s @chaotic-shapeshifter @whosafraidoflittleoldme17 @thebetterbartontwin @your-fav-russian-assassin

[runnning-outof-time]

A Special Woman | Tommy Shelby x Reader (featuring a very special guest)

Request: no - written for @look-at-the-soul ‘s The Grandma Series

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader & a very special guest

Summary: (Y/N)’s big day is made extra special by one of the most important people in her life.

Warnings: none

A/N: ok so there’s a lot of dancing happening here…I didn’t quite mean for it to be such a focal point, but I guess that’s what happens when you write fragments at a time. I hope it’s not overkill for y’all! I also wrote this envisioning it being set in modern times, but it could definitely be read in the PB period as well. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I’m sorry it took me sooo long to write this, Mar but I knew that I wanted to participate in this lovely celebration of yours. I hope you like it!!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Darling you look wonderful,” the older woman said to her granddaughter. It was probably the fourth time she’d assured her of it. “Stop fussing with your dress,” she then swatted the younger woman’s hands down.

“But what if it’s…”

“But nothing,” (Y/N) was brushed off yet again, “you’re dress is perfect. You’re perfect,” the older woman said as she moved to stand behind her. “Let me fix the back now.”

(Y/N) conceded, allowing her grandmother to work on getting the back of her dress tightened. She stood still as the buttons and ties were done up, her smile widening with each second that passed. This was really happening…soon enough she’d be married.

Her eyebrows furrowed together at the feeling of something cool being draped around her neck. She looked down and noticed that a small, light blue locket was now resting against her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately as she realized exactly which locket this was.

This locket had been in her family since the day that her grandfather draped it around her grandmother’s neck. Inside of it was still a picture of the couple in their younger days. The love that was present between them in that photo still remained all of these years later. (Y/N) hoped that she’d have a love like that with the man she would soon vow to spend the rest of her life with.

“Gram…” she trailed off, getting choked up as she turned to look at the older woman.

“It’ll be your something blue,” her grandmother smiled back at her, “you wear it beautifully.”

“Thank you for allowing me to wear it,” (Y/N) said, wrapping her arms around the other woman then. “You know it’s always been one of my favorite pieces of yours,” she added once they pulled away from each other.

“Maybe I’ll get you one of your own then,” the older woman thought aloud, “you can add a photo of you and Thomas into it.”

The saying of her fiancé’s name was enough to set off butterflies in the bride-to-be’s stomach. She couldn’t help the little giddy dance she did before her grandmother took hold of her arms and squeezed them gently.

“Everything is ready for you now, (Y/N),” the event coordinator announced as she entered the dressing room.

(Y/N) acknowledged the statement before she turned back to her grandmother. The older woman instantly noticed the fact that nerves were seeping into her granddaughter’s features. She wouldn’t let them take over. “Let’s get you married,” she announced, sqeezing the younger woman’s arms once more before she led her out of the dressing room.

(Y/N) met with her mother and father in the lobby, accepting both of their arms so that they could help walk her down the aisle. She sent one last beaming smile to her grandmother, who waved at her before she entered the main area of the chapel to take her seat.

Tommy and (Y/N) found themselves on the dance floor directly after the wedding party introductions were made. They both knew that they’d share their first dance as a way to kick the reception off into full swing. A little bit of a calm before the storm, (Y/N) was calling it.

She enjoyed being held close by her husband. Even though all of their guests’ eyes were on them, she truly felt like she and Tommy were the only two people in the room.

“I’m happy all of that’s over,” Tommy mumbled into her ear, his cheek pressed against hers as they slowly swayed.

(Y/N) just had to pull her face away to see him clearly, her eyes slightly widened. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy our wedding ceremony, Thomas Shelby?” she asked, feigning shock.

Tommy’s lips tugged up into a smirk upon seeing her expression. “Oh I enjoyed it, love,” he assured her, tilting his head to the side and grimacing slightly before he finished his statement, “the attention of our families, not so much.”

A breath of a laugh left (Y/N)’s lips as she ran her hand down the lapel of his suit jacket. “For a man who thrives off of power and attention I must say that I’m quite surprised to hear that.”

“I would’ve been happy with it being just you and I, eloping and then telling our families after the fact.”

“I don’t think our families would have appreciated that,” she commented with a smile.

“Even better,” he grinned, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.

“Cake time!” (Y/N)’s mother exclaimed, prompting everyone to turn their attention to the newlyweds where they stood by their wedding cake. It was quite simple, a three-tiered cake that had silver and gold accents throughout its floral decorations.

Tommy and (Y/N) took hold of the cutting knife and together cut a piece of the cake from its bottom tier. Tommy held the plate between the two of them after making sure that (Y/N) had a fork.

“Clean or messy?” he asked, his words quiet enough so that only (Y/N) heard them.

“Clean…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows and sending him a look that he immediately took as something along the lines of ‘messy later’.

“Cheeky,” he commented, winking at her before they both got a forkful of the cake.

“Whenever you’re ready!” her mom called, making the two remember that their party guests were still crowded around them. If there was one thing that (Y/N) and Tommy had down, it was that they were able to make each other feel as though they were the only people in the room.

The room broke out in applause as they cleanly placed the forkful of cake into each others mouth, and (Y/N) was easily able to distinguish Arthur’s wolf whistle amongst the cheers when Tommy leaned in and kissed her.

It was a bit later in the evening when (Y/N) saw that her grandmother was finally free. She’d been playing the role of social butterfly all night, meshing with Tommy’s family naturally. This may be the only time she was alone, so (Y/N) wasn’t going to wait a moment longer. “I’m going to go have a dance with gram, if that’s alright,” she told Tommy, making to leave the small group conversation they’d been pulled into.

“Go ‘head,” Tommy answered, sending her off with a soft smile.

“Shall we dance?” (Y/N) asked her grandmother as she approached her from the side.

“Oh!” the older woman exclaimed, surprised by the sudden voice. Her surprised expression quickly fizzled into a smile when she noticed who was beside her. “Of course, darling,” she hastily agreed, allowing her granddaughter to take her of her hand and lead her onto the dance floor.

“I see that you’re getting along with Tommy’s family fine,” (Y/N) made conversation as they swayed to the soft song.

“Swimmingly,” her grandmother smiled, glancing off to find Tommy, who was now talking with one of his brothers. “He’s good for you, (Y/N),” she added, looking back to her granddaughter.

“He is,” the younger woman agreed, smiling as she also snuck a glance over where her husband was. Her smile widened as she looked at her grandmother once more. “Thank you for all that you’ve done to help me today, gram,” she said.

“I want only the best for my granddaughter,” the older woman responded, her smile matching (Y/N)’s.

The sound of a throat being cleared made them both look to the side. Tommy was standing there, wearing a smile that made butterflies erupt in (Y/N)’s stomach. “May I steal her for a dance?” he asked, not addressing either of the ladies in particular.

“Of course,” (Y/N)’s grandmother immediately answered, stepping to the side so that he be able to take his bride’s hand.

“No, you,” he clarified, holding his hand out to the older woman.

“Really?” surprise was evident in her voice, “what a gentleman he is,” she then said to her granddaughter.

Tommy winked at his bride before he led her grandmother out onto the dance floor.

(Y/N) had to take a moment as she watched them begin to dance slowly. She quickly realized how grateful she was for those two people swaying out on the floor. She was grateful for Tommy; a man who she could love deeply and be loved deeply by. Those outside of their circle may not think that Tommy Shelby was capable of a love like that, but that was the Tommy Shelby that (Y/N) has the pleasure of knowing.

She was also grateful for her grandmother; a woman who was truly the cornerstone of her family. A woman who taught (Y/N) how to be the woman she is take. Her grandmother was truly special, and (Y/N) knew that without her, she wouldn’t know where she’d be.

MASTERLIST

Postnote: it ended rather abruptly there…I didn’t mean for that, but I’ve been hanging onto it for a looong time and wanted it to finally be out in the world. It’s also only loosely edited because…well I wanted to just get it posted already.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[impishjesters]

Time out for Jax

warning(s): Jax, temper/anger issues, inappropriate reaction, unhealthy coping methods, suggestive/implied sexual content, cursing note(s): I'm at a loss for the correct words I wanted to use in the tags, but Jax's anger is a little overkill and the reader admits to him not having great coping methods when he's really pissed off and at a breaking point. I'm in no way saying that type of coping/behaviour is acceptable, just that it exists. I also want to state that the sexual implications at the end are completely consensual! A/N: I don't know why this popped into my head but the idea of Caine putting Jax in time out only for it to not really be effective is absolutely hilarious. Plus I told my mom about it and she agreed it'd be something Caine would do and fail at.

“That’s it!” Caine shouted. He raised a hand and gave a quick snap, summoning thick iron bars from the ground that formed a small jail cell around Jax. “You sir, are in time out!”

You and a few others let out a surprised gasp. Caine had never gone so far as to actually do something to punish Jax for his behaviour, if you could even really call it a punishment.

Even Jax seemed surprised if you could get past the obvious miffed expression coupled with a few censored curses being thrown at the AI. Caine did nothing in response to the words except fix his clothes that had seemingly gone astray amidst his anger.

If you could call it that.

Caine turned to the rest of you and rushed through a more dramatic rendition of what was basically I Spy meets hide and seek, the activity he initially had started explaining before Jax’s little stunt. As soon as he finished explaining he let out a huff and disappeared with a poof of smoke.

“God dammit Jax!”

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen Caine so upset.”

“Oh, that’s worrying…”

“He didn’t give us a list of what we’re looking for…”

“Oh, maybe this thing?”

Everyone spoke over one another the moment he left, except for Jax who was still irked at being put in time out like a child of all things. “Oh c’mon this is bullshit, he’s the one who wants to keep us entertained.”

“You tried to pants him, baby.” You approached the bars with arms crossed, staring up at your idiot of a boyfriend. “I don’t even think you can pants him.”

He scoffed and copied your stance, crossing his arms. “It’s his fault we’re stuck here, he wants to entertain us then that would’ve been fucking hilariously entertaining.”

Of course, Jax didn’t feel guilt for literally taunting the entity that was likely your captor. He barely found himself feeling guilty when you did something stupid enough to make him laugh. Entertainment was entertainment, no discrimination there.

“How long do you think Caine will keep you in there?” Gangle asked, slowly approaching the two of you.

“Knowing that bastard? Who knows.” he shrugged.

“Hold on a second..” You took a step back and let your eyes roam the little makeshift prison before letting out a laugh. The whole thing was as tall as Jax and had at least enough room for him to stretch, but that wasn’t what made it so hilarious.

“What? What’s so funny?” Jax sneered, this whole thing wasn’t funny in the slightest. Weren’t you supposed to be on his side, as his partner? He was fucking stuck in this thing until you guys either finished this dumb little activity or got his attention to let him out.

The laughter caught the attention of the rest, causing them to slowly inch closer. “What’re they laughing at?” Ragatha asked.

“Heck if I know.” Jax threw his arms up and stared you down. “You gonna tell the rest of the class angel?”

It took a few moments to compose yourself, but the faint giggle never left you. Rather than answer them out loud you simply walked closer to the cage before slipping yourself between the bars, joining Jax. Caine had been so focused on putting Jax in a cage that he didn’t even take into consideration the spacing between the bars. Sure the bars were thick but they were spaced too far to really matter.

“Baby, you were never trapped.”

You walked back through the bars with little difficulty and Jax’s eye twitched with irritation. “You’ve gotta be shitting me…” He slapped a hand over his face and growled, stepping between the bars and finding himself outside the very useless prison. “I’ll kill him…”

“No, you won’t.” A sigh left you, the giggle dying down completely. At least for you, the others were still varying levels of laughter and giggles accompanied by Kinger’s slightly confusing questioning as to what everyone was laughing about. You could hear someone try to explain it to him but focus your attention on the man before you.

Jax was still agitated and like this, he would be nothing but bad company for the others. You turned to Ragatha and asked if they’d be able to handle the activity for now. She agreed, telling the two of you to return before they finished and got Caine back. Who knew how he’d respond to finding Jax outside of his time out punishment?

The others left and you turned back to Jax before offering an open palm. “How about we go to our room and let the others handle the game? I’ll even help you plan a few pranks.” If only to make sure that none of the others suffered too harshly at Jax’s irritation.

Sometimes his outbursts could get particularly nasty and would often result in some less-than-ideal words or pranks aimed at others. You’ve been on the receiving end a few times and while the first few times hurt, you knew it wasn’t anything to take personally over time.

It wasn’t healthy but it beat letting him keep everything pent up. Plus it had its rewards, Jax would always make it up to you in some way or another when that happened. The worse it was, the better the reward, and boy were those rewards worth it.

“Oh angel I’ve already got a list of pranks planned, but what I want to do is blow off this steam in other ways.” He jabbed a thumb behind himself. “Get walkin’ sweetie.”

Oh, this kind of blowing off steam was your favourite. Double reward in your book.

“Yes sir.”

Jax let out a low growl before following close behind. He’d definitely make it up to you for getting him out of that, his own anger clouded his judgment, and had it not been for you he’d still be stuck there. No, he was going to blow your back out and then reward you with a long, tender round two.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

I am better

Poe Dameron x fem!Reader

A/N: I kinda roasted Rey at the end. I can't help it, I hate her. The only reason I tortured myself with the sequels was literally only because Oscar Isaac as Poe lol.

Quick summary: At a conversation between you, Finn and Poe about the old Clone Wars, you spoke faster than thinking, saying Anakin Skywalker is the best pilot in the Galaxy. Poe did not like that.

Dead dove do not eat - you'll get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: nsfw, PinV, dom Poe, punishment, cockwarming, kind of dark Poe, jealous Poe.

A/N 2: Just realized the pic looks perfect. Finn is like: "Girl, you better run..." and Poe looks like: "Excuse me? What did you just say?!"

Sometimes it's better to think before speaking. It all started harmless, Finn, Poe and you were talking about the Clone Wars. Poe was worshipping the Clones, wishing they would be still around, Finn was drooling over Ahsoka Tano...and you? You were all over Anakin Skywalker, admiring everything about him.

"Anakin Skywalker? Come on, that's overkill!" Finn snorted, looking down at the Dejarik round they were playing.

"Why? Just because you're worshipping Ahsoka?" You chuckled, watching Finns dejarik player getting slamdunked.

"Ugh, you and your crushes..." Poe scoffed and leaned forward, preparing his round.

"Atleast we have one individual we love and not millions." you backfired at him, grinning cheekily.

"I think Poe chooses the Clones because all the other ladies are ugly and Ahsoka is the only sexy looking one." Finn nudged Poe, making him give a confused expression.

"Poe, how about Obi Wan?" you asked.

"Nah. He's way too noble, way too jedi-like..." he retorted with an disgusted expression.

"Wait! What about Bo Katan? Isn't she someone you'd be into, mate?" Finn suggested.

"I would even arrange the date between you two." You chuckled.

Poe just looked at you two, surprised but uncaring "You two are absolutely unfair, you know that?"

You three kept playing dejarik for a bit before Finn spoke up again.

"Hey, but what about you? Why Anakin Skywalker? Is it because he turned bad and you're kinda into bad boys?" Finn grinned at you.

"No!" you smiled, turning your head to hide the slight red on your cheeks.

"Don't be shy! Come on, spill it." Poe teased, giving you a cocky grin.

"Alright, alright, you won. I like him because he was the best in everything. Best at fighting, strong in the force." you leaned back in your seat.

"Wait, nothing else? Really?" Poe asked curiously.

"He invented the spinning." Finn joked.

You laughed hard. "And he's the best pilot in the Galaxy." you retorted but gulped as realization hit you.

You looked back up at Finn and Poe, Finn had his hand on his chin, trying to suppress the laughter threatening to come out of him. At this point you were glad at sitting opposite from them as you saw Poe's jaw tensing.

"Pheww, okay guys, I gotta go to Chewie and talk with him about something." Finn broke the silence, preparing to stand up.

"Wait, Finn! We didn't even finish our dejarik round!" You gave him an almost pleading look.

"I- uhh, I'm sure you and Poe can finish it just fine, right mate?" Finn chuckled nervously, giving Poe a pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah, we will get this over with and see who's the better one." Poe gave you a scowl.

"See? That's why I chose Ahsoka!" Finn grinned, finding the situation amusing.

"Anaking was Ahsoka's master!" you retorted, seeing Poe giving you a warning glance.

"See you guys later!" Finn waved and stood up, walking off, leaving only Poe and you alone.

"Poe...listen, I didn't mean to--" You got cut off by Poe, who stood up and made his way to you.

"I'll teach you better." he grabbed your arm and lead you out of the Millennium Falcon, leading you towards a small freighter nearby. Once inside and ensurring they were alone, he lead you to the cargohold and locked the entrance of the ship.

-----

Now you were on Poe's lap, his cock buried deep inside you, he held you firmly in place, not moving a little bit.

"Repeat what you said." Poe demanded lowly.

You squirmed, desperately trying to get atleast some friction "I-I'm sorry..."

"No, no, no, tell me. I wanna hear it coming out of your mouth again."

"Anakin-... is the b-best pilot in the Galaxy-..." you tried to move again but Poe had an iron grip that made it impossible.

"But is he really? Or is there someone better, hm?" Poe asked, holding you in place.

"Yes, you." you replied, making Poe's hips move a little bit before stopping once more. The little friction he gave felt so good, causing you to whimper after he stopped.

"So you admit I am the best and Skywalker is nothing compared to me?" he asked again.

"Poeee, please move. It's killing me..." you begged, feeling how slippy everything down there is.

"Answer." he tutted.

"Anakin is nothing compared to you. You're the best, Poe. Only you." you whimpered needily.

Poe chuckled, "See? It wasn't that hard now, was it?" he started moving slowly, only enough to make you crave for more.

Your eyes lulled back, you wanted Poe to move faster "Please faster."

"Is there something else you might tell me about Skywalker?" Poe asked, his pace increased slightly.

You knew exactly why he asked you that, he knew your mind was clouded with pleasure and thinking wasn't your speciality rightnow.

"He's handsome.." you slipped out.

"Handsome, huh?" Poe repeated, his hips stopped again.

"No- I mean- you-you're handsome. Anakin's not." You stuttered, trying to correct yourself.

"Damn right I am." he started moving again.

"If you ever say someone is better than me again, I will make sure to fuck you so hard you will forget all their names and only remember mine. Now enjoy the ride, honey."

Poe's thrusts increased even more, moving you up and down simutaniously.

Your orgasm approached so fast, it was only mere minutes before it ripped through your body. Poe's orgasm came right after yours. He grabbed a rag and cleaned both of you up while you put your clothes back on.

Poe and you left the freighter, walking back to the Millennium Falcon as Finn approached

"Heyy, did you two finally got an agreement?" Finn asked, looking at you two.

"Yep. We uh- we came to an agreement that Anakin is better at..." you trailed off, looking at Poe who was looking back at you expectantly.

"He is better with his lightsaber than Rey. I mean- come on, Anakin got training and Rey didn't, right? Having powers without getting trained is no right to call themselves a Jedi, right?" You chuckled nervously, your eyes flicking towards Poe for a split second.

"Damn, girl, you're really into the mood to fight anyone today, eh?" Finn laughed.

You glanced back to Poe, seeing him inhale heavily and closing his eyes briefly.

Noticing this, you quickly nudged Finn's shoulder, "Hey Finn, wanna finish our Dejarik round? I beat Poe, but the others are still in it." you urged him.

"Alright. Let's do this." Finn agreed casually and started walking.

You walked closely beside him, looking over your shoulder to see Poe shooting you another warning and his expression turning dark.

Oh no...

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic July challenge.

Pretty Amazing

July Prompt: One | Word Count: 1,111 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Past Loss of Parent | Tags: Established Relationship, Parenthood, Passing Down Heirlooms, Slice of Life, Domestic and Soft

"What are you looking for, exactly?" Steve asks, slightly swaying with Ellie tucked in his arm. He looks good like that, holding a baby, and Eddie stops and looks at him for a second. They really have a baby. 

He's staring at Steve in a daze, "Eddie?"

That shakes him out of it.

"A book," Eddie finally answers, as he starts digging through the boxes again. He was sure it was here, thinks he saw it before they left Hawkins, all those years ago. He thinks he remembers packing it, since it's one of the few things he has left from his mom. Something she made, just for him.

But he's not sure if he's seen it since they moved.

He just put it away for safekeeping and now he can't fucking find it. Maybe it's still at Wayne's. That would make sense, he supposes. 

"What kind of book?" Steve asks, "Do you want me to put her down and help you look?"

"No!" Eddie says quickly, he doesn't want that. He wants Steve to hold her forever. He'll find it. Or he won't. But Steve should keep doing exactly what he is, until the end of time.

Eddie looks back at them, and smiles, "It's a book my mom made for me. I want Ellie to have it."

Steve laughs, his eyes crinkling, "Honey, she's a week old."

"One week, and two days," Eddie corrects, and Steve laughs again. He's so fucking happy, they both are. It had taken a long time, and a lot of heartache, but she's finally here. Beyond perfect, and worth the wait.

"One week, and two days," Steve concedes. 

Eddie goes back to looking, as Steve and Ellie watch him from the doorway. Well, Steve watches. Ellie's sleeping, missing her dad searching through boxes like a crazy person.

He finally finds it in the last place he looks. Wrapped in tissue paper, bubble wrapped, and then wrapped in a t-shirt he thought he'd lost on their road trip, since he hasn't seen it in forever. Apparently it's right here, being used as packing.

A little overkill, maybe, for a fabric book.

But it's safe, right in his hands. 

"Found it!" he yells, and Steve shows up in the doorway, Ellie still sleeping in his arms.

Eddie takes it out to the coffee table and lays it down. It's a little dingy, a little worn, but it was his, and now it'll be hers. 

"Show us," Steve says, and Eddie does. He opens the cover of the thick book and is greeted with his name in felted bubble letters. Maybe he can cut out two Ls to match, and cover up the Ds, so it has her name instead? He has time to figure that out.

But he flips through the pages.

"I googled it. It's called a quiet book," Eddie explains. 

There's a plastic button sewn to the page, with a pocket that goes over it, where you can push the button through the buttonhole, over and over again. 

On another page, there's a felted grandfather clock, with a little mouse running up the side, and moveable hands you can turn to set the time. 

A felt shoe, with attached laces, waiting to be tied into a bow.

A zipper, on a little tent in the woods. A bear lurking behind the trees.

Page after page of things that his mother made with her own two hands, just for him to learn from.

"This is amazing," Steve says.

"Yeah, it's to, like, teach dexterity?" he says, voice lilting up at the end, like that's a question.

"No, well, yes," Steve says, "but it's amazing because your mom made it for you and now Ellie can learn from it, too."

Eddie swallows. Yeah. That is pretty amazing.

Five years later

"One, two, buckle my shoe," Ellie says from the floor, as she works the strap through the large buckle sewn onto the page of the quiet book. 

Eddie watches her from the kitchen, cup of coffee in his hand before he heads out to work. She's so smart. And weird, and hilarious. He watches her talk to herself as she flips the pages, doing some of the activities, skipping others. 

Steve's washing the breakfast dishes at the sink as she's matching shapes to stitched outlines, attaching them with velcro. 

"What shape is that?" Eddie asks, and she turns to look at him, like he's an idiot.

She holds it up in the air, "A square."

"Really? I thought it was a circle," he says and she huffs at him, going back to her book.

Moving on to snapping and unsnapping the buttons of a little felt raincoat.

Then, moving notes up and down a scale, pressing the velcro into the felt, "F-A-C-E. Face," she says.

He knows she's just memorized that, doesn't really understand that it's a music scale with notes, but hey, maybe someday she'll have a head start. 

They had to replace some of the velcro, and a few long-lost pieces of felt, but for being over forty years old, it looks pretty damn good.

She turns to the next page, and there's the clock. He walks over and squats down behind her, and reaches over her shoulder to turn the little hand to the one, and the big hand to the six.

"One-thirty," she says, before he can even ask.

Holy shit, that's new. He was expecting her usual one-six.

Steve can read his mind, has always been able to, and says from behind him, "She figured that out yesterday." 

Eddie turns and smiles, then he nudges the little hand again.

"One-thirty-seven, stop, it's time for the next page," she scolds, and turns the page on his fingers.

He laughs, but lets her move onto the next one. The shoelaces. She hasn't gotten this one yet, and it makes her mad, so she usually skips past it.

Eddie goes over to watch next to Steve, as he's leaning against the counter. He's gotta go, and soon, but he has a few more minutes.

"Daddy has to go to work at seven-fifteen," Steve says, and Ellie heaves a sigh that is far too exasperated for someone her age, but she flips the page back and turns the clock with her little fingers. 

Then looks over at them, expectantly. Eddie walks over, and checks, and sure enough.

"You've got it! And that's my cue, girlie," he says, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, then walks over and kisses Steve goodbye. 

"Learn to tie that shoe," Eddie teases, as she's fumbling with the laces, trying. 

He knows she'll figure it out, and soon. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

Notes: If you're curious about what these books are, google "felt quiet book" and you should get several good examples.

[fairy-writes]

Heyyy, same anon who asked about Kaiju no. 8, so here am i requesting as soon as you added them😁

Can i ask for 4. with Narumi?

DON’T LEAVE ME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “Don’t leave me. Please.”

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Angst, Pre-Established Relationships, Gore, Nicknames (Princess)

Notes: I was very tempted to make this a breakup oneshot, but I refrained because that seemed a bit cliché for this prompt. Don’t worry! I have a couple of breakup fics in the works for you angst-obsessed psychos like myself, lol.

I AM WOEFULLY BEHIND ON THE MANGA, SO PLS, NO SPOILERS IF I GET ANYTHING WRONG

__________________________________________________________________________

Even after all these years as a Defense Force officer, never did you think you’d be hurt this badly. 

You can’t feel your legs, which isn’t good. You had actually muted the AI in your ear that was listing off your injuries because you couldn’t afford to lose focus. 

The kaiju in front of you is giant, not quite honju size, but it’s close. Its breath is rancid, making your eyes water with the odor of rotting flesh as it exhales and its breath wafts out over your prone body. You could practically see the clouds of stink emanating from its mouth, and the bits of human flesh stuck between its fangs aren’t doing you any favors. 

As the kaiju grew closer, your stomach sank. Trying to scoot away, much less get up and run, was futile. That much was obvious. Perhaps you should’ve listened to your AI when you were initially injured…

Were you going to die here?

The ground shook beneath you and rattled your teeth in your head as the kaiju took a lumbering step. It was then that you heard something. 

Just on the edge of your hearing. 

Was that…?

“DUCK!” Gen bellowed, and you instinctively hit the deck, nearly cracking your jaw against the concrete as you covered your head and curled up as best you could. Gen blasted the kaiju to pieces with his massive weapon, which you always teased was overkill. 

Almost as soon as he pulled the trigger, it was as if the kaiju combusted from the inside out. Ooze and ichor splashed over your body, though luckily, you were clothed from the neck down in your suit, and your arms mostly covered your head. Your legs were still numb, even as flesh and gore from the monster pelted you in chunks; you couldn’t feel anything from the waist down. 

“—ncess! Hey!” Gen called, and you heard the clatter of his bayonet falling to the ground as he hit his knees and skidded to your side. Globs of goop and flesh were brushed off your body, and he turned you onto your back. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. But you couldn’t fault him for it. You were just happy to see him. 

“Hey, Gen.” You wheeze, and he offers you that crooked grin you love so much. 

“Hey, princess. You weren’t answering your comm.” He said, and you grunted in pain as he brushed a bruise on the side of your head. 

“The AI got too annoying. Broken this, bruised that, blah, blah, blah.” You complained, and even as you spoke, you could tell he was getting worried. He didn’t outright say it, but you had been dating for years and known each other for longer. 

That was one of the perks of growing up as childhood sweethearts. 

Gen put a finger to his ear where his earpiece was and waited before cursing.

“Shit, we’re in a dead zone. I gotta get you a medic. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.” He said, moving you as gently as possible so you were propped up against some rubble, and he put your gun in your hand. 

A jolt of panic shot through your body as he got up to leave. 

You couldn’t be left alone. 

Something was going to go horribly wrong if you did.

You lurched and grabbed his ankle, nearly sending him to the ground. 

“—the hell?! Princess, you have to let go!” He said and turned back to look at you.

“Don’t leave me. Please.” You begged, and he rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t move you too much, or else you’ll get worse. Give me five minutes tops!” He soothed, and you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. 

Gen, practically able to sense your worry, crouched and kissed you on the mouth. He tasted like sweat and salt and exhaustion. 

“Five minutes. I promise.” He said, and you finally relented. 

It was just five minutes. What could go wrong?

As soon as Gen left, sprinting away with his bayonet to get some help, that awful feeling returned. 

And it only amplified as a tall, spindly, pale being rounded the corner and set its beady eyes on you. 

A kaiju?

It raised a bony finger, and you could see the air start to shimmer…

Before there was a “pop!” everything went black.