#no one else can see u like this

[hungharrington]

what about jealous steve…

ok it’s not quite jealous steve, more like possessive steve but that’s cos i half wrote it and then came back and i’m not wasting precious writing <3 ok mwah as always, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You and Steve split up for all of 10 minutes before he’s back at your side, one hand sliding into your back pocket, kissing the side of your head in hello.

The kiss burns lightly where it's pressed into your hair. The usual party music dwindles in the background, playing from the other room.

“Hey sweetheart,” He murmurs, voice all low.

He ducks his head low to press another kiss to your skin, this time against the heat of your neck. You squirm at the sudden attention and smile apologetically at your friend, almost flustered, and turn to him.

“Hi,” You smile up at him through your lashes. “What’s that special greeting for?”

“Nothin’,” Steve hums, smiling back, even as his hand in your pocket gives a little squeeze. He’s got that flush he always gets after one or two beers, colouring his face.

He gives you a little tug sideways, towards him. “C'mon, I wanna talk to you.”

You huff a laugh but follow him all the same, leaving with a quick wave to your friend over your shoulder. Steve’s hand slips from your back pocket to tangle with your hand and he leads you through the living room and out to the hallway. Doors line it and Steve seems to know exactly where he’s heading.

“Sure,” You laugh a bit, on the adoring side. “We totally came to this party so we talk to each other—“ Steve pushes through one of the doors, revealing an empty bedroom. “— in an empty bedroom.”

Behind you, the door snips shut. Steve turns and steals a glance at the drink in your hand, plucking it from you without any warning.

“Hey!” You say, as he puts it down on a surface behind him. “I was drin—oh,”

In one fluid motion, Steve steps in and backs you up against the door, one hand settling on your waist. The other curls beneath your chin, cradling your jaw and you barely get a moment to gasp before his lips are on yours.

Hot and desperate, Steve kisses you like you’re a feast for him to devour— fierce kisses, little nips, adoring little noises as he finally gets his lips on you like he’s been dreaming of all night.

You make a soft noise in your throat, a sound of appreciation. Your hands travel up to rest on his chest, fingers twining around the collar of his polo.

Pulling back, Steve’s delighted to see you already look a little messy — your lips pinker than normal, your eyes wider, darker.

“Really?” He asks, his voice low and teasing. Steve leans in and kisses your neck again, in the same place he did put in the living room. His breath is hot against your skin when he murmurs against your skin? “You didn’t think we’d end up here?”

Something in the gravel of his tone makes your back arch, something warm thrumming within you as Steve begins to suckle the skin of your neck. Fuck, you think, beginning to pant, Of course he’s going for a hickey.

“I- uh,” Your voice is already soaked in a sigh, your fingers clenching over his shoulders tightly as pleasure begins to drool through your core.

Steve continues before you can even answer his first question. His hand on your waist moves, shifting down til he’s grabbing at the apex of your thigh. His fingers dig into the swell of your ass, cupping it so he can pull you forward — right as his thigh slots between yours easily.

“You think i could come to these parties,” He breathes, moving your hips for you. “with you, looking this fucking hot,” You pant beneath him. “and not need to leave a mark?”

Following his word true, his hot mouth reattaches to your neck, sucking with fervor this time. His hand on your ass moves and finds its place in your back pocket again, squeezing and dragging your hips forward once more.

The other shifts down squeeze at your chest, his deft fingers rubbing over your nipple with eased practice. You moan prettily, rutting down against the denim, the friction downright sinful.

Your hands have a mind of their own, still moving up, and now they twist into the hair at the nape of his neck. Steve’s moves on to a new spot on your neck now, further down, and you’re helpless to do anything but let him.

Something in your cunts throbs at the possessiveness. You could very happily do this all night. The ambience of the party just behind the door slips away almost completely.

Steve pulls back after a couple of minutes, lips sheened with spit, his hair a mess from how you’ve been dragging your hands through it. His heavy eyes drag slowly from your marked up neck down to where you’re still grinding onto his thigh. His cock thickens in his jeans.

“Fuck,” He sighs, the sound rough in his throat. He moves his other hand down so he’s holding your hips, dragging your hips forward at his own, controlled pace. You nudge against his hard on with every motion.

“You don’t do this for anyone else, do you?” He asks, a dash of a smirk on his face. Smug. Possessive. Adored with you. You shake your head, each of your breaths lilted with a moan.

“Just you,” You say, knowing what he wants to hear. You know your boyfriend, so you know exactly why he’s pulled you in here and marked up your neck— and it only fuels your lust. “Only you, Steve,”

Steve’s cock twitches in his pants, his breath catching in his throat.

“God, fuck this party,” He mutters, diving in to capture your lips with his. You’re both so riled up, the kiss strong and hungry from both sides.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull back, forehead pressed against yours. “Let’s ditch this place. I can’t let you go out there looking like this.”

You huff a laugh but are inclined to agree. “You’re the one who made me like this.”

“I know,” Steve says. “But now I might be giving people ideas.”

That makes you laugh— the perplexity of his reasoning. Boy logic, you suppose. Your arms around his neck tug him closer, stealing a kiss.

“Better get me home then, huh?”

Steve grins, knowing exactly what’s waiting at home—and kisses you with the promise of what’s to come.

[hinamie]

10 years later

[starii-void]

going to chb must be crazy like imagine sharing a camp with

-one of the strongest demigods ever who's saved the world like at least 3 times, fought multiple gods & titans and WON (and is a tartarus survivor)

-the literal main architect of OLYMPUS who's also saved the world multiple times (also tartarus survivor)

-THE lord of the wild who's also close friends with the first two (and has helped save the world multiple times)

-an emo kid from the 1930s who again helped save the world and is also a tartarus survivor (TWICE)

-a son of apollo who survived tartarus with nothing but cargo shorts and sheer will (pun intended)

-the main designer and builder for the argo II, also the first hephaestus kid to have fire powers since hundreds of years ago (did i mention killed gaea? no? yeah he did that too)

-a girl who somehow charmspeak-ed gaea into falling back asleep (also side note daughter of super famous actor because why not)

-pretty much everybody is a two-time war veteran

-THE GOD APOLLO who just sometimes comes down to visit in the form of a teenage boy

-did i mention dionysus, god of wine madness and theatre

-also chiron, trainer of pretty much every greek hero ever

[maelancoli]

i cannot stress enough how important it is to write at your own pace. to give your mind and spirit room to breathe, to process your creativity and allow it to come organically to you. goals and discipline are a good and necessary part of any hobby, especially writing, but so is rest. rest prevents burn out. and if you push yourself until you burn out you will wind up taking even longer to complete projects or meet goals. even if you are already burnt out that's okay. this is your sign to give yourself the grace to take breaks. your story, your muses, your brilliant ideas will be waiting for you to pick them up with proper enthusiasm when you're ready.

[theloveinc]

Togame Jo’s greeting kisses to you are always way too long.

The kind of affection that’s usually savored in private, instead displayed wherever, whenever, and every single time you see each other—he always takes two to three minutes just to kiss you hello, abandoning the task at hand (dozing off, attending to Choji, managing the Shishitoren) to mosey your way and pull your lips to his in something just a little too sloppy to be sweet, but a little too sweet to be… too distasteful.

Everyone’s used to it by now, even Sakura, knowing that when you arrive, there’s always a going to be a pause in action just for the sappy display of Togame drooping over you and announcing you to the crowd physically.

(What’s not readily exposed, however, and especially not in a room full of men, is that it’s not just a kiss Togame’s giving you, not just a hello that he hides behind his long bangs and your cheeks between his warm hands, but the kindest stare and sweetest little whisper, “missed you, baby,” as he wraps you up in his arms.)

[doctorwhommm]

got silly with this one ◡̈

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[3-aem]

thinking about touch starved touch sensitive gojo again. Absolutely desperate for even the most grazing touches from getou and yet overwhelmed by it all.

[ryllen]

You know I am surprise Sebek that is never jealous to anyone who is close to Yuu. It is a boys school and I can imagine some have crushes on her.

[izzyspussy]

the fact that they made it illegal to make ads louder than programs on tv in 2010 but haven't updated it to apply the same regulation to streaming. who do i have to call.

[dovesick]

no more stars

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[sh1-n0bu]

everyday i look at the hoyoverse fandom and go “wow… media literacy IS dead😃”

[baeshijima]

ever since the 5.2 trailer this is all ive been able to think about

once again, the genshin pokemon au thoughts are running wild

excuse the mega long rant in tags bc i geeked out perhaps a lil too much abt pkmn au but ourghghg.... we do not talk abt how i spent at least an hour writing all this out....

[lovesickeros]

now that natlan is out it's tsaritsa yearning hours again because i am one nation closer to either being horribly disappointed or foaming at the mouth!

creator!reader w a little side of conflicted tsaritsa is such good food I can't not yap about it. a woman who has dedicated so much of her life to severing herself from "love" of all kinds and succeeding and. just being so confident that when she meets you she's bitter and angry and mean. because she can't stand you. she isn't supposed to love yet you worm your way into her heart anyway and you don't even know it.

especially in smth like an imposter au. she tells herself your just a tool for her to use but your treated like the Divine you really are, pampered and spoiled every step. tells herself it means nothing when she indulges you – let's you hold her hand in private, eventually let's you move aside the veil, just a little.

and she hates it. hates how easy it is to let you break down the ice she's built up for years.

all you do is smile and she feels like she can't breathe. because despite how violently she rejects love in all aspects, it always bleeds through eventually. she despises it but the way you brush your thumbs over her cheeks makes her bitter and warm and it infuriates her to no end.

she hates you and she loves you and she can't stand you and if you were ever taken from her she'd destroy every inch of teyvat if she had to go get you back.

and ironically enough I think she'd also be the one to initiate any first kiss. maybe she's still trying to convince herself it's just a fluke and itll make her realize it meant nothing, it means nothing. desperate to fix whatever you've done to her and instead it just makes it worse.

a horrible mess of a woman who gave up on love just to be confronted with it when she finally accepted it's absence.

[dukeofthomas]

I don't want Jason as a declawed version of himself, all 'murder Is Wrong' and part of the batfam, but I also don't want him as an evil 'I blow up schools and shoot people for fun' villain.

I also once saw someone say a big part of the divesiveness here comes from how Robin!Jason and Red Hood!Jason are practically different characters. If you want villainous Red Hood, you make Robin Jason more aggresive, angrier, you make him more like what he'll become as an adult. And if you like Jaybin, you explain his murders and mistakes as side-effects of the pit and make Red Hood nicer and more agreeable, like how he wss before.

But I feel like both are a disservice to his character, but the 2 extremes of him are also really hard to reconcile.