#otp: in more than his lips

[comebackali]

#the last two gifs....#the yearning is so real#hes gonna eat his master alive#how does Obi-Wan survive a horny 19 y/o looking at him like that all the time. i know he notices (via cringekind)

Star Wars Episode II : Attack of the Clones (2002) dir. George Lucas

[steviesbicrisis]

Thinking about YouTuber Steve who’s gaining a lot of popularity with his weekly vlogs. The routine is very similar: he goes to work, hangs out with friends, acts silly for the camera, cooks for his roommate, watches movies with his roommate, goes out with his roommate.

His roommate is there a lot.

His new growing fanbase doesn’t take long to divide into factions regarding Steve’s dating life and sexuality; There are ships, OTPs, people who want him single so they can date him, and a surprisingly small portion which questions his heterosexuality, which gets always shut up by the following compelling arguments:

“stop assuming he’s gay.”

“Steve doesn’t look gay. He’s just a guy, a former jock, who loves to cook and hangs out with friends. A friend more than the others, but it’s his roommate so it makes sense, right?”

“And yes, they do cuddle while watching movies, but who doesn’t love a cuddle? You don’t have to be gay for that.”

“Sure, they hold hands when they go out but the city is crowded and they might lose each other.”

“Since when two male friends can’t be close without assuming that they’re gay?”

“Have you ever seen them kiss in ten minutes of weekly vlog? No, so drop your gay agenda already.”

And Steve Harrington, who started the whole vlog thing in the first place because he wanted to update his friends who live miles away and still doesn’t know how he got this much heteronormative bullcrap in his comments, has had enough.

One day, Steve Just-A-Guy Harrington, wakes up and chooses violence.

He replies to a tiktok comment that says “stop assuming he’s gay” with another video.

It begins with Steve glaring at the camera “oh yes please, stop assuming I’m gay.”

Then there’s a quick motion and Steve is pulling a curly haired guy into frame: Eddie, his roommate/platonic friend/totally not his boyfriend of 5+ years.

Eddie yawns, looking sleepily at the camera “are you vlogging?”

“I’m proving a point” Steve replies, then kisses him. They almost get lost into it, but Steve is a man on a mission, so he pulls back and turns to the camera.

“This is Eddie, my boyfriend. Not a friend who’s a boy, you delusional homophobes, we are together, a couple, in a relationship. We haven’t been just friends for over 5 years. We live together, he isn’t just a roommate.

And even if he was just my roommate, do you think I would live with this” he squeezes Eddie’s cheeks between his fingers and zooms in to show his face up close. Eddie blinks a couple of times, but let’s Steve do whatever he wants.

“Do you seriously think that I would live with this 24/7 and stay straight? Like, are you insane?” He gives Eddie a quick smack on the lips, leaving him blushing and more confused than ever.

Usually, it’s Eddie the one getting almost feral over Steve, not the other way around.

He doesn’t complain.

“So yeah, stop assuming I’m gay. Because I’m bi, you homophobic little shits.”

The video ends with Eddie pulling Steve for more than a quick peck on the lips, and Steve throwing the phone on their couch, face down.

Somehow, under Steve’s video, there’s still someone that comments “I mean, this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just bros helping bros, right?”

Steve is too busy making out with his “bro�� to read it.

[sturnioz]

about the one where fratboy!chris doesn't let shy!reader meet his family I THOUGHT ABT SOMETHING

sooo imagine chris's mom otp while he's with reader then reader gets her hopes up thinking chris would somehow mention who he's with right now but he doesn't and it ends up into reader with hurt feelings and chris just being an asshole like it's no big deal

i lowkey wanna be hurt rn GIMME ANGST

you're staring wide eyed at chris, completely captivated at the voice he uses to talk to marylou on the phone — his tone soft and gentle, almost childlike, and he grins at the words she speaks, his eyes twinkling with warmth, causing a smile to creep across your lips.

it's a side of him you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a flutter of admiration in your chest.

as he walks around his room, his phone cradled in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other, you're stuck watching how tenderly he engages with his mother. his expression constantly shifts between playful to genuine care and adoration.

"yeah, ma. everythin' is good," chris hums softly, placing his phone on the desk and pressing the speaker icon, allowing his mother's voice to fill the room. "classes are good too."

"and how is nick? has he been over recently?"

"y'know nick would rather die than come into the frat house—"

"oh, chris, you know i don't like you saying things like that to me. don't say that."

"sorry, ma," chris apologises sincerely, and you're taken aback by the softness in his tone. it's a complete contrast to the condescending way he usually speaks to you, often laced with sarcasm and mockery. the apology feels so genuine that it makes your heart flutter once more. "he doesn't like it here. prefers to meet up some place else."

"as long as you're seeing each other, that's all that matters," marylou says softly. "'cos your dad and i were worried that you wouldn't spend much time with him with your new living arrangements and all."

"no, no. we're good, we see each other a lot," chris reassures her as he pulls his jeans up his legs, threading his belt through the loops. "you don't need to worry, ma. i promise. we're actually goin' to get dinner tonight. nate's comin' along too."

you knew about the dinner tonight — though you weren't invited of course, you were all too aware of the plans.

"oh, nate," marylou coos softly at the mention of him. "and how is—"

her words are cut off when the book resting in your lap slips from your grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud, causing chris' head to snap in your direction, momentarily pausing mid-motion.

he then grabs his plain white t-shirt, glaring at you as your lips form a tight-lipped, apologetic smile as you reach down to retrieve the book, your neck and cheeks burning with embarrassment. chris shakes his head at you with a quiet scoff, clearly unimpressed.

"is anyone there with you?" marylou asks curiously, her tone riddled with warmth and inviting.

your heart races as your head shoots up, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you. you take a deep breath, ready to introduce yourself properly, hoping to make a good first impression.

"no. just some dumb frat kid next door makin' noise." chris immediately shuts it down, his tone dismissive, and your smile immediately drops from your face, a wave of discomfort twisting in your stomach and chest.

the disappointment stings more than you expected, and you can't help but feel small under his words. you tune out chris and marylou's conversation now, the warmth you felt just moments ago fading into an ache deep within you. mindlessly, you flip through the pages of you book, the words blurring together as your interest in that simmers too.

you don't even realise chris is saying goodbye to his mom, using a sweet tone that would have definitely made you swoon if you were paying attention. you completely miss the heartfelt 'i miss yous' and 'i love yous' shared between them too.

it's only when you feel the bed dip that your attention snaps back to reality, and you raise your gaze to see chris sitting on the edge, pulling on a pair of white socks before reaching for his black converse.

"m'gonna get matt to take you back to your place," chris announces nonchalantly, as if his earlier words hadn't left an impact. "gotta go that way t'get nick anyways."

"'kay." you reply, trying to keep your tone light.

chris twists his head to peer over his shoulder at you, his fingers busy tying his laces. his brows furrow in confusion as he stares at you. "what?"

you murmur back, "what?"

"whats the matter with you?" he asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. "actin' all weird on me. quieter than usual—"

"why didn't you tell your mom i was with you?" the question slips out before you can even think to stop it, a mix of hurt and vulnerability lacing your words.

chris gives you a look that makes you feel foolish, as if you've just asked the most ridiculous question. "why would i?"

his bluntness stings again, and you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. it's not just the question that bothers you; it's the slow realisation that he doesn't see how much you wish to be acknowledged, to be part of his world in a way that feels meaningful — more than a casual hook-up, maybe even as a friend.

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "i just thought... maybe it would be nice, is all."

chris shrugs, turning back to his shoes. "s'not a big deal, kid."

"it is to me." the words slip out before you can hold them back again, a somewhat desperate plea for an understanding.

"why?" he asks immediately, looking back at you once more. "it shouldn't mean shit to you."

"you know my mom," you state. "you... you've spoken to my mom before, and—"

"'cos that was your choice, kid. yeah? 'n this is my choice," he points to his chest to emphasis his words, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race. "y'want me to tell my mom that i've got some girl in my room? have her question shit? nah... i keep my family life separate to what i do here."

his words hit hard. you understand his need for boundaries, but it hurts to feel so easily dismissed, and the ache in your chest deepens. you want to argue back, to make him see your side, but the words catch in your throat and you fall silent,

[fleur-bbyy]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ GET IT UP! s. gojo (0.9k)

is satoru’s call really more important than you?

warnings: oral (m receiving), suckin’ him off while he’s otp, pet names (like excessive pet names), slight throat fucking, nickname toru, MDNI!!!

a/n: eepy and whoreknee

“Can’t really do this right now, baby.” Satoru was never one to deny his own pleasure.

He’d already been reduced to shaky breaths by you just kissing your way down his body. Taking your time to find every bump and ridge in his skin and marking it with your mouth. Simultaneously fumbling with the button and zipper on his pants and practically gleaming when you saw his heavy cock spring free.

“Y’got the sweetest fuckin’ lips, angel, but we really can’t right now.” His voice wasn’t as firm this time. It was breathier, unstable.

You were a second away from taking his cock into your mouth when the incessant buzz of his phone began to vibrate the desk above your head.

“‘M sorry, baby, told you I had to take it.” He caressed your face before gently patting your head. “Just give me a minute, babe, and I’m all yours. I promise.” You still rolled your eyes as he pressed the ‘answer’ button and held the device to his ear, not annoyed at him, but whoever was on the other line.

“Please?” You mouthed, gesturing with your eyes down to his cock and back up to him. A pitiful, pleading look painted on your face. Satoru pouted back down at you and shook his head, whispering a small “I’m sorry.” before bringing his attention back to his cell phone.

That short minute quickly turns to five agonizing minutes of having to listen to talks of curses and you already felt yourself growing bored. Resting your head on his lap from where you’re perched on the floor in front of him, trying to find something to keep you entertained. Your fingers quickly grow tired of tracing shapes on Satoru’s thigh. In an act of rebellion, your eyes dart up to his to make sure he’s still engrossed in the phone call and you experimentally run a finger over the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock. Smirking when he shoots you a warning glare and mutters a quick “mhm” to whoever’s on the other end.

The warning doing nothing but spur you on to continue. With a coy smile, you begin to take him into your mouth. Relishing in the feeling of him twitch inside you when you begin to run your tongue over his tip. Not taking him in all the way to tease him even more. He sinks down further into his chair and a light sheen of sweat begins to make his forehead shine, causing a few strands of his soft, white hair to dampen and stick. He was too focused on trying to control his breathing and not let any incriminating sounds slip out to notice his hair hanging begin in his eyes. You almost laugh when you hear the man on the other end of the phone ask your boyfriend if he’s feeling alright.

“Yeah, y-yeah. Just… can I put’cha on hold for a sec.” You can’t see him mute the call, but you know he does by the way he lets his moans spill from his pink lips. Letting one of his hands fall to your head and push himself deeper into your throat. You allow him to shallowly thrust his hips up into you, throwing his head back before speaking again.

“Gotta lot of nerve, sweetheart,” He stops again, biting his lip to hold back a whine, “call’s important. Y’know that.” You pull yourself off of him and he groans at the loss of warmth.

“I just wanna have fun with you, ‘Toru.” He audibly groans at the nickname. The sound going straight to your aching core. He knows that you know what that name does to him. You replace your mouth with your hand and begin to gently pump up and down his length. Running your thumb over his flushed, leaking tip and using his pre as extra lube. Your eyes dart back and forth between his cock and his growing-pink face.

You can tell he’s debating something by the way his nose scrunches and his eyebrows furrow. He looks back to his phone to see how long he’s had the man on hold before looking back to you and softening his face.

“Okay, okay. Wha’dya need from me, baby? Tell ‘Toru what’cha need.” You smile victoriously, removing your hand to slip his cock back into your mouth once more. Bobbing your head up and down a few more times to give him a taste of what he could have if he focused all of his attention on you. Pulling off to give his length one more slow, tantalizing lick from base to tip.

“Hang up and you can have whatever you want from me.” Your voice was smooth, music to his ears. He plasters a cocky smirk on his face before bringing the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey… something just came up. Gonna have to get back to you at a better time.” He doesn’t even wait for the man to respond before ending the call. Lazily dropping his phone to his desk before turning his attention back to you.

“Now, I believe you owe me one, sweetness.”

[leclerclov3]

｡･:*˚:✧｡ P1 baby

masterlist

✰ pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

✰ warning: none

✰ summary: It was no secret that ferrari was a whole shit show this season thos however did not stop charles from giving his all to the team that didn't even care about him.

✰ word count:0,5k

You sit in Charles' driver's room waiting for him to come back from yet another bad qualifying.

"Hey baby.." you say softly as he walks in he immediately comes over to you hugging you and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

"I just don't know what I'm doing wrong... I've been practicing nonstop staying focused going over strategies what else do I need to do" he says desperately.

You can't help but feel awful as he lays and rants in your arms. you rub his back comfortingly "Shh baby it's alright none of this is your fault..you've been amazing you have given them your all there is not much else you could do. You are doing your best and that's enough even more than that ough and I'm sure all of this will pay off in the future. you're amazing love don't you ever forget it" You kiss his forehead.

he looks up "Thank you y/n I don't know what I would do without you..." he smiles a small but genuine smile "I'll give it my best tomorrow I’ll try to win...for you" he pecks your lips and lays back down the exhaustion from qualifying finally getting to him as he drifts off...

Sunday comes and you can't say that you aren't excited for what today will bring after your little talk with Charles he seemed happier..more sure of himself and it gave you hope...hope that after all of this, he'd still be ok...

The race starts and turns one is as chaotic as always but Charles manages to snag P1 you know that it's too early to celebrate but you can't seem to shake off the excitement that's bubbling in your stomach...

Lap 7 passes he's still in the lead then lap 20 and then the final lap there is a fierce battle going on between Charles and Max right now and you can't help but feel anxious as they get closer and closer to the finish line...you see max over take Charles in the 2nd to last corner and as you begin to lose hope Charles sneaks back and snags P1 for himself.

The whole Ferrari garage is going wild as well as you, with tears in your eyes you run to Parc fermé getting right in front of the brackets. You excitedly wait for Charles to get here. And as his car parks right at that P1 spot and he gets out of the car you both lock eyes it's like no one existed around you too. He runs straight to you taking off his helmet hugging you tightly and then giving you a kiss that you will never forget... After that day it was safe to say that you knew that he'd be alright..

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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and others

yourusername knew you could do it ❤️

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charles_leclerc couldn’t do it without you cheri

↳yourusername ❤️❤️

lilymhe the absolute cutest

↳alex_albon excuse me

↳yourusername it’s only the truth alex

francisca.cgomez so cute 🤍

↳yourusername 💕

user18 my otp

user5 when is it my turn

user92 that should be me 🎵🎵

｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:

Second fic is finished this one is a little different from the first but i still hope you liked it let me know if you have any feedback and enjoy your day <3

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

While the nobles are shipping MC with their kings, what would happen if MC makes an anonymous account and starts shipping the kings with each other as a joke to troll the demons? Maybe even ship the seraphim with them?

I think that there is a seprate community for king x king shippers, but they're at war with the MC x king shippers.

Anonymus: Satan and Mammon would make such a power couple. Just imagine a union betwen the two! I can't this is OTP of the year

Eligos: They would <3 Imagine the child of Solomon between the two! It would be so cute!!!

Anonymus: No, I mean, just Satan and Mammon. I don't think the child of Solomon could fit in there. I think they're a bit over-rated

Eligos: Listen here you little shit!

Eligos: You can take your awful ship and Solomon slander to the king shippers forum and leave us normal people here

Foras: IP: 62946.02854.72794

I think most of them won't care that much, but there are some that are very intense about it. Just make sure nobody from Hades is active online while you do your trolling, cause you'll get doxxed. People in Hades have no chill

If you start shipping anyone with the Seraphim, you're putting a huge target on your back. I have this visual image of MC writing fanfiction about Michael x Lucifer while in Paradise Lost and Lucifer just stares at their phone with all his hope in humanity dying slowly with every word you type out.

"Michael takes Lucifer's hands and makes his way towards the fallen angel's mouth. The atmosphere is hot, but his brother is hotter is all Michael could think as their lips finally touched"

You giggle as you write that down in your notes app, unaware that one of your creative muses is standing right next to you. He sighs and puts a hand on your sholder.

"I don't think there's any cure for what you have. I'm not mad... I'm just disappointed."

You'll not be seeing Lucifer any time soon, he's in his room rethinking his love life.

If you post anything seraphim x king related, you'll get harassed by some of the more reactive bunch (Eligos, Gamigin, Foras, Amon) and blocked by the calmer ones (Paimon mostly. He's been on the internet for longer than anyone here, he knows how the block button works)

If/When they find out that you were just trolling, they'll be surprised and confused to say the least. Some of them would laugh it off, but the one's that are extremely invested in the MC shipper community would need to emotionally recover. They'll all be very appologetic if they said anything bad to you. Foras would probably beg Leviathan to hang him because he doxxed you. He can't live knowing that he hurt the child of Solomon. (It's fine nobody got harmed... as far as you know.)

[waterlooletterwrb]

WRITE WITH ME!

I will start, and you can use the reblog to continue this story however you desire! The idea is that post by post we do a longer story (but if you wanna post your version somewhere else feel free to do so, you just remember to credit me!).

The One rule: You can't gender the Elf!Reader character.

If you need, add more warnings to your post!

OTP: Mairon (Sauron) x Elf!Reader

Universe: Rings of Power / Tolkien

Warnings: main character death, angst, blood, "you can fix him" plot;

Summary: You're the one who stole the Dark Lord's heart, yet you're dying in his arms.

A Forbidden Promise

"Don't go. I — I cannot follow you there. You can't go. You can't go." His voice was frenetic, desperate in a way the dark lord never sounded. How could he not be? You're dying in his arms, the only sweet touch, warmth, love he's ever known. And he will never be able to follow you to Mandos. "Please, I will never be able to go with you there, please."

His plea sounds like he wants to go tho. A begging, maybe the first time in more than two ages that Mairon of the Maiar actually regrets his choices. In you he found his perfection. And now he would lose it. Was that the vengeance of the Valar?

You raise your weak hand, resting it on this face. With your thumb you wipe one of the tears from his cheek. Even now he is as beautiful as the first time you saw each other.

"I — I will come back. For you, I will come back." Your voice is not much more than an whisper. Yet, somehow you make a disbelieving smile appears on his lips.

"Who would give up paradise for me? For Sauron?" The name disgust you as much as it disgust him, and your face probably shows it because he sighs. "If you're leaving me, at least leave saying the truth. It's too... cruel to say it. For I never hoped before."

That makes you give him a pity sad smile. Ignoring the pain, you do everything you can to raise yourself. He holds you tighter, his warmth is what you need to concentrate even when your vision starts to fade.

"Mairon, endanya¹. Hear the last words of the one who stole your heart." This make you see for one last time the sweet smile that he only ever directed to you. "As I promised once, I will never lie to you."

He presses his forehead against yours. For the last time you breathe the same air. "So I dare to command you, Mairon or whatever name you desire to hear now: learn to hope." I little cry escapes your lips, and you feel his hands tremble where he holds you, for a moment you lose your mind and all you can hear is the blood dripping. It's a shame, his always beautiful tunics will forever be stained within your blood now.

Even so, he won't stop holding you. So you do everything you can to reassure him again. He needs to understand, he must believe.

"Learn to hope." You mumble. "For I shall return to you."

You no longer can see or feel, your hand falling from his face is the first sign you went to the undying lands. But you were right. And Mairon, Sauron, does not let you go. He holds you tightly, in a crying so long it's impossible to believe that that destroyed and devastated being was once Morgoth's heir.

The grief is too much and, when he finally let you, there's no one to hear but the wind while he whispers:

"I — I'm yours to command, endanya. I will hear whatever name you call me. I will do whatever you wish. I will hope — I will hope for you."

A promise and a threat. Because in his soul he knows; you were the only one that could stop what's coming for Middle Earth. You were the only one that could stop him.

So now even the wind hopes. You need to return.

••••••••••••••••

Endanya¹ = if i did the word correctly it should be quenya for "my love/my soul", but in a deeper way of calling the one you love "your everything". In my mind, when Sauron says it he is also telling that the reader is his light.

[mojowitchcraft]

Stommy Starter Pack

Bella @bilbosmom-belladonna said she was getting into Stommy so I thought I'd do a fic rec list of my faves!!

This is by no means an exhaustive list, please feel free to post more Stommy recs in the replies!

If you're a Steddie shipper and you are just warming up to the idea of letting Tommy infiltrate your OTP try these Stommie (Steve, Tommy, Eddie - aka Frog Stack) Fics:

movie night by pizzabones aka @glitterfang Post S4 | Rated E | 9k | One Shot This is a series with 2 parts so far, with a 3rd one on the way

Nightly demodog attacks, a town that's held together by duct tape and sheer pettiness, a scrappy group of survivors living in Hawkins high and one, Tommy Hagan. After coming home to Hawkins to check on his family and running into a fair bit of trouble, Tommy manages to find himself roommates with none other than Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. It's actually not that bad all things considered. At least there's still porn at the end of the world.

Strange Overtones by WabiSabiPapi aka @arimakes Body Swap | Rated E | 38k | 4/4 Chapters

When he makes it to the small clearing, quick footsteps come up behind him, and before he can turn around, someone tries to shove him. Astonishingly, his center of gravity is on his side and he plants his feet in time, holding his ground. Spinning around, he puts his fists up and freezes when he sees himself panting and angry with fists clenched to his sides. “Woah, trippy,” Eddie remarks. Tommy dressed him poorly today—the absence of his battle vest is going to draw a lot of attention from his comrades. “What the fuck did you do to me, freak?!” “Tommy?” Eddie doublechecks, hopeful that their game of musical bodies is only between the two of them and not some other third party. “Yes! Did you fucking curse me? What the shit is this?!” ----- Eddie Munson and Tommy Hagan don't like each other and they don't have anything in common - or at least, that's what they think until one morning, they each wake up in the other's body.

MORE RECS BELOW THE CUT!

pretty secrets we share in the dark by poopypantsbennett aka @dontcallmeeds PWP | Rated E | 3k | One Shot

Then, a throat clears from the back of bedroom and Tommy’s entire universe becomes hell frozen over. Steve scrambles away from Tommy, takes his hand back. The loss of touch makes Tommy have to bite back a whine. “Well, don’t stop on my accord,” a somewhat familiar voice comes from a plume of smoke by the window. (Or Tommy and Steve get caught by everyone’s favorite stoner, Eddie Munson)

And the boy who loves you the wrong way is filthy by whateverokayFINE aka @batmunson666 PWP | Rated E | 4.5k | One Shot This is in a series with 2 parts so far

“You wanna kiss him?” Eddie’s voice is warm on his neck. The sun was starting to set. “Yeah.” or Tommy Hagan goes over to Eddie Munson's trailer to buy weed, sees that he’s not alone and the guy that he’s been in love with for years has been keeping his drug dealer company.

friend, love, freefall by @becomingfoxes Rated E | 10k | One Shot Plus there's some really lovely art in the fic!

Eddie leans into his face; his big, stupid, chocolate bambi eyes wide as he bats his eyelashes at Tommy and says, “Pretty, pretty please.” And really, Tommy tries not to react but he can’t help that his eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and back up to his eyes. So he pushes at Eddie, just to get some distance and watches as he flops back onto the bed in a mess of uncoordinated limbs. “Jesus fuck.” He sniffs, “Sure, okay. We can watch your dumb, creepy doll movie.” “Yesss.” 

And then if you want another fun threesome you can try Stomarol (Steve, Tommy, Carol)

and steve makes three by Adure aka @toburnup AU | Rated E | 8k | One Shot

"Steve doesn't like me." Tommy knows better than to lie. "He'll come around." He knows that the reason Steve hates Carol is the same reason that Tommy loves her. The same reason he loves Steve, really. They have the same bite, the same oil-slick filthy mouths that get them in trouble. They both smell like hairspray and bubblegum. They both like Tommy.

And then if you're ready for the full Stommy experience:

hold the line by pizzabones Post S4 | Rated E | 8k | One Shot

Standing at the precipice of a big change, Steve's dragged to a Hawkins High bonfire by Dustin. It feels like a personal low, showing up to a high school gathering at twenty. Oh well. It's fine, he'll be out of Hawkins soon enough. It just figures that Tommy Hagan, the last person he expected to run into tonight, is also standing in the keg line. As the poets (Toto) say, "love isn't always on time".

sidelong by Adure AU | Rated E | 6k | One Shot

Tommy draws his knees up toward him and leans his folded arms on top. He stares, unashamed, at the length of Steve's neck as he looks around. His chin. His nice smile. Tommy's drunker now that they're sitting in the brunt of the sun, and maybe that's why it takes a few extra seconds for him to realize that Steve's stopped talking. "Is there something on my face?" Steve asks, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. He looks confused. And he's waiting, because Tommy is slack-jawed and a little bit in love and he's really, really not ready for this shit. (Tommy can't help but look, and Steve can't stop catching him.)

here you come again by @cranberrymoons Post S4 | Rated E | 16k | One Shot

Vaguely, over the sound of a bland pop song playing in the background, he hears the squeak of a pair of sneakers come to a halt at the other end of the aisle. He turns his head toward the sound… and promptly fumbles the tube of Pringles he’d been reaching for. He bats at it with his hand in a futile attempt at catching it, instead knocking it further toward the ground like a spiked volleyball. He clears his throat. “Um.” The tube rolls across the linoleum and comes to a stop at Tommy Hagan’s feet. Steve stares at it for a long, agonizing beat of silence, then he looks back up at Tommy’s face. “Sorry.” Tommy raises his eyebrows, and Steve’s heart kicks in his chest. Steve and Tommy haven't talked in nearly three years. After everything, maybe the best way forward is back.

no pressure by Adure No Upside Down AU | Rated E | 11k | One Shot

Steve Harrington has the worst porn collection Tommy's ever seen. His own is better in every way, no doubt about it, and it seems like Steve agrees as he looks over the rows of tapes. "Which one's your favourite?" "Huh?" "Your favourite. Which one?" Steve asks again, slower this time. Makes Tommy feel slow, too, as he reaches over for a well worn tape near the top of the box. Steve gives him a smile that's sly enough to make Tommy feel like an idiot for saying it. For giving up something damning and getting shit-all in return, just Steve grabbing a fistful of his sleeve and pulling him toward the door. "Let's watch it." Steve kisses Tommy. It's a joke, it doesn't mean anything. There isn't an explanation for what happens after that.

After Everything by WabiSabiPapi Soulmate AU | Rated E | 23k | 4/4 Chapters

It's 2003 - nearly two decades after Eddie sacrificed himself to save Hawkins, leaving Steve behind to navigate a life without his soulmate. He has made his peace knowing that falling in love is not in the cards for him until one day, someone from his past shows up unexpectedly. Maybe it's not too late to find love, after all.

Again, this is not an exhaustive list, just some of my faves by my fave writers and friends! Would love recs (yes self recs too!!!) in the replies!!

[ghostfacd]

BEAUTIFUL BOY! — LUKE HUGHES

au masterlist

author’s note: i wrote this after waking up from my high nap LMAOO shh anyway listen to beautiful boy to enhance the experience ! this can be read as a stand alone but i recommend reading my au for context.

ynuser

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, kiellestapa and 462 others

ynuser my first baby. my entire world. rowden quintin hughes, you came into the world a 7 pound beautiful curly haired blonde baby. it felt like yesterday when i first held you close to me. thank you for making me a mother rowdy, happy 2nd birthday my beautiful boy.

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jackhughes please let me and quinny meet him!

↳ quinnhughes LITERALLY.

lhughes_06 happy birthday my special boy.

markestapa HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THEO’S BEST BUDDD

kiellestapa it seems like it was just yesterday when i saw you coming out the delivery room with rowdy. happy birthday rowden quintin hughes, you are so loved my boy.

↳ ynuser he loves his auntie so much 🥲🫶🫶

When it was Rowden’s second birthday, Luke decided he was finally going to let his brothers see his son. It was a mutual decision between him and his girlfriend, they knew how much Jack and Quinn wanted to see Rowdy.

Luke had regretted leaving Y/N that day back in London so he could pursue his hockey career at Umich. If he could travel back in time, he would’ve swallowed his dreams and stayed with her. But he couldn’t—so he was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her and Rowden for being absent the first year of his life.

“Oh my god.” The voice of Jack breaks Luke out of his daze. He watches as his older brother picks up Rowden, who, despite being a very fussy kid when it came to strangers, smiled contently in his uncle’s hold. “Hi buddy!”

Luke could’ve sworn he saw tears in his brother’s eyes. Quinn, who was currently waiting his turn in the back, wiped his eyes with his sweater, not wanting to cry in front of his younger brothers.

“I cant believe you named him Rowden Quintin Hughes,” Quinn says, his face converted into a frown, only because he was on the verge of sobbing.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Y/N pats him on the back, giving him a comforting smile. “You and Jack have always been there for me back at Hogwarts. You two were like my older brothers. The least I could do is name Rowdy after you.”

“We love you Y/N,” Jack says, his lips wobbling. “Thank you for putting up with our brother.”

His words make the four of you laugh. Rowden, sensing your happiness, claps his hand, his smile ever so prominent. You give him a kiss on the cheek, glad your family was one again, and you knew Rowden would grow up very loved.

ynuser

liked by lhughes_06, quinnhughes and 770 others

ynuser also happy 1 year anniversary to my hot hockey boyfriend, lukey warren hughes. thank you for giving me a chance that day back at hogwarts when i asked you out after your quidditch game. we’ve been together for 4 years but you had to go pursue your dreams at umich, and i honestly couldn’t be more proud of where you’re at now. you’re one of the most stubborn, moody, and charming person i know. the best hockey and quidditch player, and most importantly, the best daddy to rowden. keep winning baby, go blue!! 💙

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lhughes_06 happy 1 year anniversary baby. i thank the gods everyday for sending you to me after my quidditch game. thank you for putting up with my mood swings and hotheaded self. love u and rowdy more than words can express.

↳ ynuser 🥹🥹

jackhughes okaaaay fine i admit you two are pretty cute..

kiellestapa MY OTP

quinnhughes

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, ynuser, and 2,432 others

quinnhughes uncle life is pretty cool.

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jackhughes pretty cool? SUPER cool.

jackhughes we love rowdy

↳ quinnhughes yes we do

ynuser rowdy loves his uncles!!

↳ lhughes_06 he likes me better.

lhughes_06

liked by ynuser, jackhughes, markestapa and 1,500 others

lhughes_06 the monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here.

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ynuser beautiful boy.

markestapa best new dad

↳ lhughes_06 love ya buddy.

[alexa-fika]

Midnight Rascals (Sanji x child!reader)

A/N- Another one inspired by @me-writes-prompts, specifically from this post here, same as last time, I loosely based it on it as most of the prompt was change but it was still totally inspired by it. Who better to take this on than our Casanova chef?

Prompt: OTP comes home to their children playing with flour all over the floor and they can't help but coo at them, even though they'll have to clean the whole house twice.

Dividers by @/saradika

Sanji had woken up, his keen senses alerted by the familiar sound of someone having sneaked into the kitchen; knowing the avaricious appetite of his captain and how dangerous it would be to let the man be the cook stormed into the kitchen,

“Luffy, I swear,” he growls, only to stop at the shear mess that now lay in his kitchen, the whole place covered in white, his head snapping to one of the counters where he heard movement from

“Luffy, you better pray to every deity out there because when im done with the crew will be having a full-course meal on your body!”

“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?!” Sanji’s fury grew as he noticed every piece of equipment was covered with the same dusty white substance. Storming towards the counter only to stop short as in front of him lay not his captain but his young sibling thrown on the floor, writing and drawing messily on what he now identified as flour

Sanji stared blankly for a second, trying to register what his eyes were seeing

“W-what are you doing?!” He finally found the capacity to talk, staring at his sibling with disbelief as they lay there with their tongue sticking out in a state of concentrated effort, writing indecipherable words.

Their sibling shrieked, taking one look at their brother and the shocked look plastered on their face and shooting up and trying to make a run for it

Sanji immediately ran forward to grab the child who was attempting to escape, trying to hold back his laughter, his hands surrounding the small frame

“Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going? I think you have lots to explain,” he said, holding the small child up with a curly browed arched as he waited for an explanation

“Why is there flour all over my kitchen?”

“It just fell…”

“Oh? It just fell, did it?”His eyes quickly once again surveyed the scale of the disaster caused by a bag of flour ‘falling,’ and with his youngest sibling covered in flour, it was apparent who was the cause of this catastrophe

“Yeah!”

“Oh, you mean those random piles of flour all around the floor, and the fact that every single piece of equipment in the kitchen is covered in flour, and even you’re covered head to toe in flour, and that you were literally writing with flour on the kitchen floor…It just fell, is that right?”

“Yeah?” They replied, giggling nervously, a little bit more hesitant than their previous answer

“Oh, you think being cute and giggling will get you out of trouble?”

Sanji smirked at his little sibling

“I promise you that’s not going to work this time.”

“ I love you, brother Sanji!”

“Convenient you wanting to share that when you’re caught red-handed. Do you think saying that is going to get you out of trouble?”

“Yep”

“Have a little bit of shame to at least deny it,” he mutters as he rolls his eyes, putting the child on the ground

“Good try, go get a rag; you have lots to clean up.”

“Awww!”

“Don’t you ‘Aww’ me, Start brooming and dusting the place,” he said, amused at his sibling's antics.

“But I was practicing writing!”

“You were practicing writing on the kitchen floor? With flour? Are you a baker now? Get cleaning”

They pout, grabbing a small child-size broom and starting to sweep the mess they had created

“Put that lip back, you rascal. I raised you, and I know your tricks; they won’t work on me like they do the rest of the crew,” he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, inhaling and exhaling a thin wisp of smoke

What we thinking? I was working on another part for crocodile pigeon!reader among some other ideas but I had to get hall something wholesome and we haven’t heard of our resident cook in a while

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[tennessoui]

Oooh for the OTP questions, number 57 with the ‘you be the tightrope’ Obikin???

hello!!! thank you <3

[from this OTP list of questions]

57. Who's the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random items into the cart?

ooo in "you be the tightrope, i'll be the safety net" (a/b/o dynamics), anakin is such an unserious grocery shopper that when they were at college, obi-wan restricted them both to one basket (which anakin was instructed to carry) and when that didn't stop anakin's inclination to add random things and sweet treats and cans of chickpeas to their grocery list, obi-wan threatened him separate baskets which only worked because anakin developed a keen hatred for having anything of his separated from anything of obi-wan's if unnecessary. now when they go grocery shopping, obi-wan makes anakin steer the cart and holds onto one of his hands so that he's completely occupied and focused on the mission (the grocery list)

this is all very ironic because anakin is actually the more thrifty of the two of them while obi-wan is prone to court indulgences despite the ticket price. it's just whenever his husband is concerned, anakin tends to lose his head a little bit.

the only exception to this dynamic is well documented (by anakin) and found extremely shameful (by obi-wan): obi-wan tends to add entirely random things to the cart in the week or so preceding his heat

"I know what you're doing," Obi-Wan mutters as he watches Anakin pull a grocery cart out from the bay and turn it towards the store. "And it's stupid. And frankly offensive."

"I'm taking my mate grocery shopping," Anakin replies easily, lifting one of his hands from the cart's bar and wrapping his arm around his omega's waist. "I don't know what's offensive about that, unless you have something against--" he glances down at their written list, "honeycrisp apples and penne pasta?"

Obi-Wan scowls but allows himself to be pulled closer under Anakin's arm. Either he thinks Anakin is liable to throw a fit in the store should he step away, or his own bitchy attitude is more theatric than he's pretending. Probably, knowing him, it's a mix of both.

"You think my heat's approaching," he hisses as they stroll past the herbs and fresh vegetables.

Anakin hums, making a very big point of examining the selection of apples in front of him. "I do," he tells Obi-Wan, also in an undertone because he's not an idiot. "I don't know what that has to do with the grocery store though, baby."

Obi-Wan's cheeks flush a dull red. Anakin's familiar enough with all of his blushes to know this one is from anger, not sweetness.

"You're trying to prove your silly little point," Obi-Wan snaps, lips pulling back from his teeth, and Anakin loves him so much he wants to kiss him by the produce, even when he's all spitting mad and indignant, feathers ruffled and pride wounded. "That I tend to...hoard. Before my heat."

Anakin just stops himself from rolling his eyes. His omega is so stubborn and beautiful and blind to his own instincts half the time. Anakin's been in love with him since he was a kid, since before they even presented. He knows better than anyone else--even Obi-Wan, apparently--how he gets in the week before his heat hits. Ever since they were in high school, Anakin's known to present the omega with a sweet treat or two--or five--as soon as he smells his scent begin to change.

He's given him loose-leaf tea, fresh baked bread, thermoses full of soup in the winter months. Obi-Wan has always accepted all of it, had been known to snoop through Anakin's cupboards in college if he were staying over and hadn't been presented with enough food.

Anakin doesn't think he eats most of it. He just likes to have it around. Near. And so Anakin likes to provide it for him, because he'd give Obi-Wan anything he wanted or needed in the entire world. He'd give him anything he so much as looked at twice.

Which is why grocery shopping the week before Obi-Wan's heat hits has become one of Anakin's favorite activities. For this one brief period of time, Obi-Wan is disinclined to reject Anakin doting on him.

Even if he won't admit it.

"Which is not true," Obi-Wan is saying mulishly as Anakin lets go of the cart's handle to select three of the apples.

"Hm," he says with a very small smile.

"What."

Anakin tucks the apples into the cart and then glances at Obi-Wan, leaning over to kiss him on the temple. Again, Obi-Wan lets him.

Anakin loves the week before his mate goes into heat almost as much as he loves the few days of his actual heat.

"It's just, you know. You've put in the cart half a cherry pie, a carton of blueberries, caramel dip, and two packets of pistachios since we arrived, baby." He pauses, blinks, and then makes a show of checking the shopping list even though he knows he risks exile to the living room couch for the night. "And none of that is on our list."

Obi-Wan scowls, and his cheeks redden further. He doesn't make a move to put any of it back though, which is good as Anakin would hate to have to sneak back here a few hours from now just to purchase all of his omega's food cravings in secret.

[hearts444karma]

「　𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ！」　☆彡　vezalius bandage

“you worried me. you worried me sick!” he mumbled turning to face you, looking directly into your eyes.

“Zaliii~ i���m sorry. I didnt expect it to be an ambush.” you whined, only to realize that Vezalius wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. his eyes were fixated directly on your lips. he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

instead he reached a hand out and traced it over you lip, parting it slightly.

your heart was racing faster than you could ever imagine. you were certain your face was on fire, and no matter how badly you wanted to speak, nothing would come out.

you managed to splutter a quick "Zali," and his eyes suddenly shot up to your own.

"the.. the cut on your lip.. it's bound to scar." he said. he traced it slowly with his slender, cold thumb before tracing it back to your jawline.  he started to cup your face at this point, while you sat there admiring his appearance without saying a word.

his raven black hair sat on his scalp as it normally did.

albeit the fact that a few strands fell over and hung over his right eye. his warm, golden eyes gently look into yours. and before you realized it, his lips—his beautiful, gentle lips—were suddenly on yours.

your eyes widened at the unexpected warmth that enshrouded your lips. your heart fluttered down to your stomach as you felt the sensation people describe to be "butterfies".

he swiftly withdrew before you could ease into this new entanglement and make yourself more comfortable. you immediately put your hand to your lips in shock at what had just occurred.

“i-”

“FINALLY!”

you and Vezalius turned to face the entrance of the treatment room to see Vanta carrying an unconscious Willy over his shoulder. “my otp is finally happening!!”

[unboundprompts]

can i get some sci-fi otp writing prompts? exploring the stars!! running through different planets!! escaping evil cyborgs!!

Sci-Fi OTP Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"I love you more than all the stars in the sky." "Oh, that's so sappy."

"You're hotter than the Betelgeuse red supergiant." "Okay, that's enough."

He quickly pulled her into a tight alleyway, pressing a gentle hand to her lips. He brought a finger to his own, signaling her to be quiet as his chest heaved up and down. A group of cyborgs rolled past them, oblivious to their presence.

"Do you ever wonder if there's other life out there?" "Shut up, you idiot. We are literally on an alien planet. Right now." "Do you think they're also staring at the stars wondering the same thing?"

"On the count of three, we're going to run like hell." Before he knew what he was doing, he was planting a kiss on their lips. They stared at him, stunned. "For good luck," he murmured.

They held up a blue rock. "Looks like your eyes," they told her.

"Do you think we'll ever get tired of stargazing?" "We're under a different sky every time," he answered. "And I'll never get tired of it as long as you're next to me."

She stood over two cyborgs that she had just pummeled into the Earth. They twitched, their robotic limbs intertwining with one another's. "Aw, look," she pointed at them. "That's us."

[annerbhp]

So who remembers the Four Seasons Landscaping press conference debacle of November 7th, 2020? You know, the one held across the street from the sex shop. And the endless memes after of “imagine your OTP: who owns the landscaping company and who owns the sex shop”?

Well, yeah, I wrote this thing for it a long while back. And yes, of course I made Harry work at the sex shop and Ginny at the landscaping company. Decided I should just schedule it to post on the next November 7th. Enjoy!

Come Again (Harry/Ginny, meet-cute, Harry works at a sex shop, bad flirting, Ginny’s into it anyway, non-magic world, Teen, no content warnings. Other than, you know, sex shop inventory!)

Harry glances up from his magazine at the sound of the shop door opening. He cursorily looks over the customer—young woman, mid-twenties, red hair, short, athletic build—before returning his attention to the magazine. He’s noticed most customers don’t particularly like the feeling of being watched. Some people flee immediately upon catching him watching them. Especially women.

Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he can see her slip down the aisle furthest from the cashier counter, the one full of costumes and larger objects far too difficult for anyone to steal.

“Harry?”

He looks over at Tara near the breakroom at the back where she’s pulling on her coat. “Are you off?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Are you sure it’s okay if I take Tuesday morning off?” She’s biting at her lower lip, as thinking his offer was somehow a trap. He wonders what kind of shit she had to put up with at her last job. Or it could just be him. Maybe she’s still trying to get used to him as their manager or something.

“Yes,” he says, forcing his voice patient. “Go get your tooth looked at. I’ll cover the shift, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she says in a rush. She glances over, catching sight of the ginger. “Want me to cover this one before I go?”

“I’ve got it,” he says, and it occurs to him that maybe she’s more nervous about leaving him to do the shift on his own than she is that he’s going to get mad at her for taking the time off.

He’d be offended by that if he hadn’t spent the last three weeks completely in over his head. But he’s starting to get the hang of it now.

Tara waves and leaves out the back.

“So you’re the owner then? You don’t look like a Luna.”

He turns to find the customer standing in front of him. He glances at the big sign out front declaring this store as Luna’s sex toys and more store.

“What? Oh,” he says. “No. I’m just filling in for her for a few months. She’s out on maternity leave. Twins.”

“Ah, so you’re just the understudy,” she says.

“Something like that.”

Pull yourself together, Potter.

“Then you’re…” She waves a finger around in a circle, encompassing the whole store. “In the business?”

He laughs. “No.” He realizes a moment too late how bad that sounded, and rushes on. “She was going to have to shut the shop down or cut her time home, but I’m between careers at the moment, so I figured I could cover for her.” He has no idea why he is spilling his life story out at her, and he considers that maybe Tara had seen what he hadn’t when she’d been so reluctant to leave him on his own. “It’s been a bit of a learning curve, I admit. Though mostly it seems to be about putting customers in categories and treating them accordingly.”

Her eyes narrow, as if sensing an insult towards the kind of people who might come to a shop like this. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“No,” he says, desperately trying to backpedal. “It’s just… Look. It’s like setting expectations? There’s people who come for joke gifts, the people who pretend they are here for joke gifts because they are too embarrassed to want to buy something, the people who know exactly what they want and get right to it, and the people who are here because of rebounds. Each kind of person would prefer to be treated differently: ignored, helped, given stern looks. So it’s just about figuring out which kind of customer they are, so I can make this easiest for them.”

The customer is now frowning at him. “You know that still sounds kind of creepy, even if it makes sense.”

“Studying people is kind of my thing.”

She only looks more alarmed.

“Not in a creepy stalker way! Or in a ‘I want to draw your picture’ way. I was a profiler. You know, criminals?”

“Ah, so now the customers are criminals.”

He would think he just can’t win with this maniacal customer, but she was smiling now, clearly teasing him. “Only if you try to walk off with Gary shoved down your shirt,” he gamely replies.

She turns to follow his gesture, letting out a low laugh at the sight of an enormous oversized novelty cock with a face on the tip. It’s not a ‘I’m nervous and about to break down into a fit of giggles’ laugh either, so Harry is pretty sure this is a customer who won’t mind being offered help.

“So is there anything in particular I can help you find?” he asks.

“You tell me.”

Said in any other tone, that might sound like a come on, but it was more challenging than coy. “Excuse me?” he asks.

“Am I here for a joke gift? Profile me.”

He looks her over, eyes lingering on the details. A new sweater (he could see the strip where the sticker had been removed very recently). Her hair looked freshly cut, the way she touched it said it was not the length she was used to, maybe having cut it off recently. There was the slightest indentation on her ring finger, a faint tan line.

“You’ve recently broken off a long-term relationship, either started when you were both very young, with someone who likes vanilla sex that you found boring, or with someone who was offended by the idea of you using any toys because it felt like cheating and made you get rid of them.”

She stares back at him, eyes wide.

He said it all without thinking, really, just speaking as it came to him, these thoughts about who she was that he might come up with about a case.

“Sorry,” he says, certain he’s just cost Luna a customer. “I’m sure I’m way off.”

“No,” she says, “you’re annoyingly on-point.”

He winces, realizing that’s probably even worse.

Definitely time to try to make a tactful retreat, if at all possible. But before he can back away, she’s speaking again.

“I used to have a Shibari before he made me toss it. Any thoughts on what might be like that? Only better. And bigger. Longer battery life.”

“Uh,” he says, floundering for a moment. Then he walks over to a shelf, pointing at a slim lavender-colored wand vibrator. “I can tell you the mini halo is really popular. But Luna always says it depends on what you’re looking for, not what other people want.”

Her eyebrow lifts, and it occurs to him that he has basically just asked for detail about her sex life. Yup. It’s possible he’s out of his element. He ends up texting Luna, for some reason not wanting to lead this particular customer astray. Not just because she seems pretty great. She deserves to get what she wants after all! Everyone does!

Getting tired of the back and forth, the customer eventually just grabs his phone and texts Luna directly, debating the finer points of the Soul Sucker. The woman’s smile—stupidly lovely, really—No, not appropriate, Harry!—is wider and wider as she gets into a really long exchange with Luna. Ending with a gasp of adoration when Luna apparently texts a picture of her sons.

The text exchange eventually dies down, the customer giving Harry a bald, assessing look.

“What?” he asks, refusing to shift back and forth on his feet, reminding himself of his long career as a criminal investigator—which would mean more if he hadn’t burned out and left with no real plans for anything else he’s going to do instead. Other than manage a sex toy store, apparently.

“She wants to know how you’re doing,” the woman asks. Her eyes narrow as she studies him a bit longer, and, shit, she should consider a career as an interrogator. She nods her head, like coming to a decision and then starts typing away again, this time narrating as she does.  “Approachable, only slightly creepy, blushes at a minimum, non-judgmental, but needs an education.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not offended in the least. Actually a better rating than he’d expect. “Trust me, every day in this shop is an education.”

Her eyebrow lifts. “I can only imagine.” She hands his phone back and sweeps up the Soul Sucker and the mini halo too.

Harry helpfully points out the displays of various lubes, letting her head over there by herself as he steps back behind the counter.

A guy comes in then, picking up a pre-order which is thankfully much more straight forward, a package already put together by Tara before she left.

By the time he’s done ringing him up, the woman has made her final selections, putting them down on the counter. He scans each one, slipping them into a bag without looking at them. Not his business!

“And with the five percent break up discount, that comes to….”

“Discount?” she asks. “I don’t need your pity.”

“What?” he asks, feeling like he’s messed up yet another thing. “No, seriously. It’s a thing.” He flips the card with five different set barcodes on it, handing it over to her.

You’re better off without them! – 5% Never too late to figure out what you like! – 5% Congrats on embracing your sexual identity! – 5% You’re a few bucks short, but still deserve joy – 5%

She looks at him in surprise.

He shrugs. “Luna.”

She seems to relax then. “Which one am I getting?”

“Does it matter?” he asks.

She lets out a huff. “Guess not.” She hands over a credit card and he really does his best not to look at her name or anything, but it is sort of a part of credit safety? Or something?

Ginny Weasley. Is her name. It sounds vaguely familiar, though he can’t quite place it.

She signs the receipt, and he passes over the bag. “Have a nice day,” he says, almost automatically.

“Oh, I’d better,” she says, lifting the bag.

He really tries not to blush. He really does. Professional, Potter. Real professional.

Only then she’s giving him a wink and walking towards the door. “Let me know if you ever need help with landscaping,” she says, “so I can return the favor.” 

Harry pauses at the strange words, frowning, resisting the urge to look down at his body.

She’s definitely laughing at him now. “The landscaping company next door? Weasley’s Landscaping? It’s where I work. The family business.”

“Oh,” Harry says with a sudden rush of understanding. She works right next door. Where he will likely see her. Again. Quite often. “Right. I definitely will.” 

“Great. See you around.”

He can’t help grinning. “Come again!” he calls out after her.

He can hear her laughter as the door shuts behind her.

It takes Harry a while to realize he’s humming as he starts taking stock of the strap-ons inventory.

Just another lovely day in Luna’s shop.

[into-deepspace]

out of the black {part 1/3}

sylus/mc • gender neutral mc • 1k • ao3 link • part 2 • requests open reblogs appreciated!!

pre-relationship || the real OTP here is MC/sylus's money :) || annoyances to lovers Summary: Sylus gifts MC his card for their troubles, and finds that their taste is very different than what he's used to. Some encouragement is in order, don't you think?

“That’ll be six fifty-nine,” the tea shop worker says cheerily. MC nods, glancing down briefly to pull their wallet from their pocket. It’s been a long day, and on their way out of the office they’d decided that if it was a pick-me-up they wanted, then it was a pick-me-up that they’d have.

So, they’d gone slightly out of their way, parking their bike outside the tea shop they’ve frequented. They take off their helmet and fix their hair as best at they can without a mirror as they walk in. From there, it’s a simple task of waiting and deciding just what they want before they order.

Now, here they are, the last little obstacle between them and their beloved boba tea the tablet in front of them. They pull their card from their wallet…

And pause.

Right. They’d forgotten about the new card nestled behind their usual debit.

As they’d started getting closer with Sylus (maybe a bit closer than they should be getting), he’d gifted them a copy of his card. His stupid fucking black card, that he’d held almost carelessly between two fingers as he’d reached it out to them about a week or so ago.

“A treat for your troubles,” he’d smirked, and then pulled one of those little vinyl card stickers in a dark, metallic green from his pocket. “In case you don’t want the world knowing just what kind of card you’ve got in that little wallet of yours.” MC had scowled at him; how the hell he knew these stupid little details about them, they have no clue.

Not wanting to quarrel with Sylus (and knowing they’d lose), they just took the card, sitting down in a fancy nearby chair to apply the sticker because they really did not want someone catching a glimpse of this card in their pocket.

They hadn’t really planned on using it, thus why it was behind their own card. But, here they are, contemplating. They thumb at the card for a brief moment.

It’s a few dollars less from their own account. They’re not tight on money, but they definitely keep to a budget, and a few extra dollars here could mean another night of hot pot or a few more stuffed animals later. And, well, Sylus had invited them to spend freely.

They pull out the card, select the 25% tip option, and tap it to the scanner. The total comes to eight dollars and twenty-four cents, and they bite at their lip. It’s a bit much to spend on a single cup of boba tea, but Sylus shouldn’t miss it too bad, right?

A few minutes of waiting later, and they’re walking out with a cup of mango tea and a yellow straw, tucking both into their bag for the drive home. As they swing one leg over their bike, their phone buzzes. Curiously, they pause to unlock it and view the text.

New Message from Rich Asshole 6:27 PM

Do you think so lowly of me, sweetheart?

Attached is an image, a screenshot to be precise, of Sylus’s bank transactions. The contrast that MC immediately catches is almost funny.

Most of the screen consists of several large purchases, anywhere from a couple hundred to several tens of thousands of dollars. Then, at the very top and circled in red, is the eight dollar purchase MC had just made. They sigh, putting their phone back in their pocket.

Just as they merge back into the bustling Linkon traffic, their phone rings, the sound coming through their helmet. With an exasperated “Oh, my god,” they tap the side of their helmet to pick up the call.

“Hello, sweetie,” Sylus says, in that infuriatingly nice voice of his. MC glares at the traffic light they’ve just stopped at.

“What do you want.”

“Eight whole dollars,” Sylus begins, and MC can hear the stupid smirk through the phone. “And twenty-three cents. Have I failed to imbue you with a taste for the finer things in life?” The light turns green. 

“Twenty-four cents,” they say, correcting him.

“It’s worse than I thought.”

MC sighs, turning on their right blinker and merging into the corresponding lane, making a turn just a moment later.

“Did you just call to talk about my apparently lacking spending habits?” they ask. Sylus really does seem like the kind of guy to get pissy that the latest object of his interest isn’t using his assets as frivolously as they could be.

“What did you buy?” Sylus asks, completely ignoring the question. MC knows better than to try and steer the conversation back.

“Mango tea,” they reply.

“What grade?”

“Uh. Commercial?” At this, Sylus laughs, a deep and smooth thing that MC can practically hear dollar signs in. MC groans. “God, Sylus, can’t I just enjoy my eight dollar tea? That’s overpriced for us peasants, you know.” Sylus hums again, infuriating as usual.

“You don’t need to be shy, you know,” he says. “I have more than enough to provide for you ten times over.”

“What are you, my sugar daddy?” MC scoffs, turning onto the street where the Hunters’ apartments are. “You’re like those stereotypical rich boyfriends on social media, ‘Ohhh look at what I bought my girlfriend, isn’t it so expensive? Aren’t I so rich? Look how I gift her my black card so she can spend thousands of dollars a day.’”

“I wouldn’t mind if you spent a few thousand a day,” Sylus says, voice casually earnest, missing the entire point. “Do you have such purchases in mind?”

“I can’t stand you,” MC says in lieu of an answer. “I’m hanging up on you now.” And, before he can answer, they do. They cut the call with another tap to their helmet as they park their bike on the street, taking a heavy breath as they take off their helmet once more.

They think about Sylus’s words as they walk up the few flights of stairs to their apartment, and as they unlock their door, a resolve settles in their mind. It’s a bit petty, maybe, but they find that they don’t care, fuelled by annoyance.

Sylus wants them to spend his money, huh? Well, then that’s exactly what they’ll do.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

read day 25 "That Familiarity, That Femininity" on Ao3!

prompt: trying to seduce one another

summary: Sherlock knows just the trick to get John to be more open to dating men. More specifically, dating Sherlock.

T, 894 words, Getting Together. Developing Relationship, Drinking, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension

or read it on tumblr:

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Sherlock was laying on the couch, hands steepled underneath his chin. He was thinking. About John Watson – as so often. John went on many dates. He didn’t seem too happy about them. Or, yes he did, but there were never many dates with the same woman, which he then complained about until he found a new woman to go out with.

That’s when Sherlock opened his eyes widely. It was clear as water all of the sudden: John just needed to go out with a man for once. He knew John was bisexual. He never told him that, but the signs were clear. Well, and since it would take a while to find a candidate, he would gladly suggest himself.

He got up to take a shower.

He went to put on fresh clothes… Black shirt, one more button open than necessary. Tight, black trousers, the ones that flattered his arse exceptionally nicely. He styled his hair into a perfect curly mess. He put on cologne and… hesitated. He looked very masculine… maybe if he gave John something familiar – something feminine – John would more easily get over the fact that Sherlock was a man. It didn’t take long to find just what he was looking for. Sherlock smiled cheekily.

***

John was frustrated. Sexually frustrated. He loved sex, hell, he would go so far and say he needed sex. He was grumpy and agitated when he hadn’t had sex in a while. Was it a bad thing to like sex that much, need it, even? John didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care. He just knew he wanted it.

So today John would go out, take Stamford with him. Wear his best smiles, use his best jokes and get laid. John nodded at himself. As good as done.

When he got home he immediately took a shower. As he walked out of the bathroom, only wearing his towels low on his hips, he noticed Sherlock was laying on the couch. He greeted him, then headed upstairs to change into better clothes.

***

Breathe in (Sherlock breathed in), breathe out (Sherlock breathed out). He didn’t know why he was freaking out, but he was. That wasn’t entirely true: He knew he was freaking out because he saw some skin. That really shouldn’t be that special. He had seen lots of skin before, lots of naked bodies even. However, Sherlock didn’t expect John to come out of the shower showing off that much of naked skin, practically radiating sexual energy at him, as if he was some kind of sex god. Sherlock groaned and sank deeper into the couch, the images rushing into his mind.

Finally he heard John coming down. He wore nothing special really. A button up, dark jeans, his best cologne.

“I am going out. I will go pick up Mike,” John declared.

Sherlock sat up. “There’s no need.”

“How do you-“ John stopped. Stared. Opened his mouth, “What happened to your lips?”

Sherlock wanted to smile, wanted to squeal and jump, when John stared at him. Eyes fixated on Sherlock’s lips. He had him. Right there, that was the familiarity, that femininity John needed. He stood up and walked over to John. “Lipstick, John. Lipstick happened to my lips,” he said. Sherlock scanned John’s face, categorised his reaction. Smirked, “You are going out with me tonight.”
John still glared at his mouth. When he finally realised he had been staring he breathed in deeply, raised his gaze to Sherlock’s eyes. And bravely, like the closeted bisexual, ex-army doctor he was asked, “Where to?”

***

Now, John was sitting at a bar, which name he had already forgotten and glared at the smear of lipstick on Sherlock’s glass. It was stupid, really. But seeing dark red lipstick on Sherlock’s face… he took another gulp from his third drink (or was it the fourth?).

He had tried to look at women, even checked out some guys, but his attention always fell back to his best friend. And that goddamn lipstick. They were talking about… he didn’t even know what. He looked down, surprised. How had his hand landed on Sherlock’s forearm? Didn’t matter. His eyes found Sherlock’s. He surprised himself, when he asked, “Do you want to dance with me?”

Sherlock’s face was full of questions for second. Then he said, “Let’s.”

So John got up, took Sherlock’ hand because hell, he was drunk and he wanted to. When they were on the dance floor John stood there for a second. Then started giggling. “Sherlock, I forgot that I have no idea how to dance!”

Sherlock stepped closer. “I’ll teach you,” his deep voice kindling something inside of John . The detective took John’s hands in his, put them on his shoulders. And as they stood there - John’s arms around Sherlock’s shoulders, the tall man’s lips dark red at John’s eye level – intoxicated as he was, he leaned in. Not to dance, no. To kiss. Immediately Sherlock responded – he stepped closer, put his hand on John’s neck, his thumb caressing the space behind his ear. The kiss was careful at first, but with every second it grew more rough. Leaving almost no room to breathe.

“I think we should take this dance lesson to Baker Street” John groaned between kisses. Sherlock, whose lipstick was now smeared, searched John’s eyes, then nodded.

It was a nice ‘dance lesson’ indeed.

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