#this isn't a blurb

[hxney-lemcn]

@ceruleancattail posts about housewarden Cater making reader be on the stage are yummy, but imagine...

Cater's barely paying to the poor Heartslabyul student whose on trial below his podium, instead he's more focused on his phone. You're sitting beside him, twirling your hair apathetically as you're pressed into his side, watching the student shiver in fear below.

"I'd say make him scrub the toilets," You murmured, letting go of your hair and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Hmm," Cater hummed, finally glancing away from his phone, clearly not interested enough in whatever this sad sap did. "Whatever you say, babe~" The cute smile on his face contrasted the student who watched on in mild horror. After all, Cater's punishments were never always as they seemed.

And with you by his side, they were always sure to be done exactly the way Cater wanted it. After all, you had become the queen's executioner.

[teddybeartoji]

it's not often you get to see a sleepy suguru.

it's not like he's not tired – he's fucking exhausted; the dreams just don't seem to like him all that much. but he's usually toughing it out, trying to seem as composed and put-together as possible. the dark skin underneath his eyes betray him, though.

so you don't really know why today is different. is he just more tired? have all of the sleepless hours caught up with him? or is it just you; could it be that your body is the most comfortable place to rest his heavy head? or is it your perfume that's soothing him to sleep?

or is it the fingers in his hair?

he doesn't really let others play with his hair too ofter either. satoru and shoko had been the only exceptions but that was before you came along. satoru uses his hair as a stim, something to play with when he's bored. suguru has taught him manners though – a few slaps against satoru's fingers and chest to remind him to be more careful. and shoko is just more likely to brush a strand from his eyes or help him tie them up in a half-assed bun whenever his own hands are full with whatever.

you like playing with hair, always have and always will. it's relaxing and it's fun and it's calming and you love it. when you first met suguru, his hair was the second thing you noticed about him (his keen purple eyes being the first). an irresistible itch burned in your fingertips everytime you saw him, everytime he wore his hair down. it just looked so pretty and soft.

he takes very good care of his hair, you know that much. specific shampoos and conditioners, masks and all – he's all in. and nobody bats an eye. not that they should but satoru definitely gets made fun of because of his stupidly expensive collection of figurines and shoko gets teased for her silly mug shelf – and yet, neither of them ever comment on the bottles and tubs of fancy products that lay on his bathroom counter.

his hair also smells good. the compliment always hangs on the tip of your tongue but stays hidden in fear of coming off too weird. too creepy. but he doesn smell good. even with closed eyes and ears and you'd find him in a crowd. you wonder whether he knows that.

as you grew closer and closer, the now scorching itch only doubled in need. you never did gather the strenght to outwardly ask him – if you could play with his hair? if you could caress it? comb through it? it was an accident.

a simple gloomy friday afternoon: you're both lazing on your couch, staring at the screen. it's funny – you find yourself muffling your already quiet bursts of laughter, suguru alongside you. he's sitting close by, closer than usual. you don't ask him about it.

he asked to come over; something-something about being sick of his own apartment. you understand that, so you tell him that your home is his home (you'd tell him that even if you didn't understand). you hear the faint smile when he thanks you over the phone.

even when he looks like he hasn't slept in months – he looks good. you can tell he's overexaggerating his smile a bit but don't say anything about it, rewarding him with a grin of your own. his eyes flick to your lips and how they curve and he thinks about how warm it feels to look at you. maybe he's not exaggerating anymore.

your arms open wide, inviting him into you and he obliges, as always. he smells good. as always.

his hands lock behind your back and your behind his neck. your hearts meet and they greet each other with a fastened beat, eager to be in sync – to feel each other again.

he pulls back and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. he's not doing it anymore and you're happy to relieve him even if it's for mere moments.

he's wearing a sweather and his hair is down. he has lip gloss on; you try to think whether he's more of a mint guy or more of a shea guy. it remains a mystery.

and now you're on the couch with two cups of warm tea waiting for you on the small table. he smells good. he's so close. he snickers at the screen and you can't take your eyes off of him. it's the same small crinkle of the eyes and the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.

you know he knows that you're looking at him. you've been told to have a staring problem and he's just an observant guy. it's a terrible match. or a perfect one.

he doesn't say anything though; instead he leans his head back and little to the side against the headrest (he's even closer now) and you find yourself shifting an inch aswell. perhaps magnets are involved? the iron in your blood pulling you together?

no, that can't be. you'd have to be polar opposites for that to work. warm-blooded and cold-blooded? would that work? you're getting too poetic and he's looking at you now.

it's an accident. it slips out on its own. you smell good. caught off guard by your own comment, you're about to apologize when a hand on your thigh almost makes you suffocate on the words stuck in your throat.

he laughs and it feels so good. he thanks you. he means it, you see it in his tired eyes. he likes the way you blush.

turning his focus back to the tv, you try to collect yourself. a deep breath in and a deep one out and a deep one in and a de—

a weight on your shoulder. he smells so good. he's so close. you peek down, curious as to whether this is a dream or not. but suguru's head is in fact laid on your body, sinking a bit more into you by the second. a deep breath in and a deep one out.

seeking for a more comfortable position, you snuggle closer to him. it's hard to focus but you're making it your sole mission to make him feel safe. your arm curls around his body, his shoulder, and rests right by a flock of his hair.

his cheek is now smushed against the top of your chest and the weight of love doesn't seem as bad as everyone keeps telling you. his hand finds a place around your waist; loosely – as if he's the one who's afraid to scare you off. silly.

his breath against you feels right and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. so you do what you always do when you get nervous – completely on their own, your fingers caress his hair. just smoothing over it at first but before you know it, they're combing through a strand and twirling the ends between themselves.

you wanna apologize, again, but the soft little grunt that emits from the man keeps you from doing so.

don't stop.

+ this is for @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat just bc it feels right

[little-pondhead]

Classic "promised-at-birth-to-the-Ghost-King" story, except the contract never states how, exactly, the King is to use the offered soul. Usually, one would be offered as a bride or sacrifice. But with Pariah Dark sealed away, his retainers got a little lazy in the last few millennia. They just made some generic contracts and practically handed them out like candy.

When Danny took over as king via conquest, that included all the weird and messed up soul contracts the previous retainers had signed. And since ghost magic was a thing and seemed to have it out for Danny personally, many of these contracts updated their terms and conditions as soon as that crown hit Danny's head, reflecting the new King's subconscious desires and personality.

This caused many issues with those still around to profit from these contracts. Some people lost their power, some gained more, and some were unbound and kicked to the curb. A few special people found themselves dropping dead after their less-than-ethical abilities disappeared.

Danny was unaware of the chaos he had unintentionally caused for quite a while. It was only brought to his attention when a letter arrived on his desk one day with a copy of someone's valid contract enclosed. The new changes have been highlighted, and a separate note is attached.

It seems that in exchange for blessings of near-immortality for her infant son, a mother had offered Pariah Dark both their souls in order to ensure her child's survival during harsh times. (The souls were to be collected upon death and were to be used as soldiers in the King's Army.) The mother's soul had returned to the Keep decades ago and was recently assigned to tend to the gardens, while her son seemed to have grown into a fine gentleman and was still alive. He used his mother's gifts to serve his country and loved ones well, it seemed.

At first, Danny didn't see what any of this had to do with him. If the mother was already a part of his kingdom, and the son would be eventually, why was a letter about the whole thing showing up before him?

Then he read the revised contract, which bore his magical signature. A signature that overruled the power of Pariah and binding it to him.

'...and as such, in return for the abilities stated above, [Mary Pennyworth] and [Alfred Pennyworth] will fulfill the conditions detailed below, upon pain of Ending.

[Mary Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a lieutenant in the Skeleton Army caretaker in the Gardens of Pluto.

STATUS: COMPLETED

[Alfred Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a general in the Skeleton Army caretaker of the King and his Court.

STATUS: PENDING'

Danny had to re-read the contract several times to understand what it was saying. He now had a caretaker? What did a caretaker do? Was it like a ghost parent? Could this guy ghost-ground him??

He sighed and pressed the speed dial on his phone for Tucker. Time to find out who the hell this Alfred Pennyworth guy was, and how to break a magic contract when it wasn't even fulfilled yet.

Meanwhile, Alfred had just found the original copy of the contract amongst his mother's belongings after it glowed and drew him in. The paperwork cleared up a lot of mysteries he'd always wondered about himself, even if he disapproved of his mother's methods. Nonetheless, he smoothed out the aged paper with dark green ink, noted the fresh (sloppy, a teenager?) signature, and began preparing to meet this supposed new King and his Court.

It wouldn't hurt to make introductions before he died, after all.

[choccorin]

boyfriend!toji who loves being shirtless as he walks around your apartment. “like what you see, doll?”, he teases everytime he catches you looking a bit too long, not that he minds. in fact, he loves it. the way you'd turn all heart-eyed when he slightly flexes his muscles. also loves the reaction you give him when he calls you out, your body flinching just a bit and you scrambling around your surroundings trying to find a good excuse like it wasn't plainly obvious that you were admiring his naked back. he thinks it's cute, he thinks you're cute.

[etherealily]

𝕊𝕀ℕ // ​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​

No one seemed to like the cliffhanger, so here's a draft that i converted into a makeshift part 6.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. NSFW. Drugs. Contains brief explicit content. Literally the only smut I have ever and will ever write.

Part 1 : Whiplash Part 2 : 9 Lives Part 3 : Blessed Part 4 : Shards Part 5 : Eighteen

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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Nate had never been more pissed in his life. Ever. You'd blatantly disobeyed him. Well, not technically. No technically, you hadn't been told anything, but he'd have figured you weren't so dense as to go and visit Shane motherfucking Crestin in the motherfucking ER !

Honestly. It's like you had one braincell and all it told you was to piss him off.

And fuck him. He definitely saw that in your eyes the last time.

Or was that the molly?

Probably the molly.

But whatever. The fact was, you wanted to fuck him, and he wanted to fuck you, and he had no idea why you wanted him out of your life if that was the case. Wasn't that fate? Two people want something so bad, they should end up doing it, no? Not going and visiting the reason they couldn't do it in the ER.

Yeah, he decided.

Yes. They. Should.

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He'd figured you would avoid him like the plague, anyway. So he didn't care if it reached you or not that he was helping McKay host a party. So imagine his surprise when, after about two months of no contact, you showed up at his party.

"Whoa."

You frowned. "Excuse me?'

"What happened to 'get the fuck out of my life, Nate?' What, were you just full of it?"

"Dude. If me being here bothers you that much, I'll just fucking leav-"

"Jeez, don't be a baby, short stuff.", he cooed, patting your head before slinging an arm around you. "C'mon, let's do shots."

"Hey, whoa, whoa, none of this friendliness."

He rolled his eyes, removing his hand from you. "Fine. C'mon. I missed you."

And the problem was, he did. He actually fucking missed you. Which was the weirdest thing to happen to him since... well, birth. It wasn't anything in particular, it wasn't even the fact that you were easy on the eyes.

He, like a fucking simp, just liked you being around him.

With as much trepidation as a sycophant scorned by his master, he gently, reverently, offered you a shot. "For old times' sake?"

You rolled your eyes, taking it from him. "For old times' sake? Like, the time you got me drunk at school?'

He smiled, his hand slowly back around your shoulder as he tugged you closer, kissing your temple. "We could always go back, y'know?", he murmured next to your ear. "Get high on the bleachers again."

"No."

"C'mon, we haven't hung out in two months. Ditch these fakes. I'm the fun one, anyway."

Jesus.

He took a long drag of his vape, the smoke bombarding your face. He proferred it to you and frowned when you declined. "Why not?"

"I don't vape."

"Are you one of those bitches that says 'smoke a real cigarette'?"

"No, I don't smoke at all."

He rolled his eyes. "We're going to the bleachers."

It was weird, to say the least, the air between you two back at the bleachers. You sat, looking up at the sky, the grass, anywhere but his eyes, and he sat with his head on your lap.

Silence covered the two of you until he sighed. "Can we just pick up where we left off?"

"And where was that?"

"With me almost eating you out."

You scoffed. You wouldn't have done that if you thought he was being serious. You wouldn't have done that if you were entirely sober. But you didn't and you weren't, so you scoffed. "Right. Yeah. Sure."

"I'm not joking. You're making this harder than it needs to be. There isn't any ulterior motive, this is just... boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy-"

"Debatable.", you muttered, but he ignored it.

"-Boy wants to fuck girl, girl wants to fuck boy, boy fucks girl. Why are you adding shit? Do you want drama? Is that what this is? Because we could do drama. I could do drama like you've never fucking seen before!"

In Nate speak, that meant he had a big dick and he wanted you to know.

"Look. It's just too complicated. You've- there's too much-"

"Forget it all. 'Kay? Just you and me.", he replied immediately, sitting up.

"Because you quote-unquote 'love' me."

"Exactly that." His lips found yours, and surprisingly, this time, you actually had a spine and pulled away.

"What the FUCK?"

Huffing, he rolled his eyes and stroked your cheek as he shifted and knelt down. "Can we skip the part where you scream 'what the fuck, what the fuck' and push me away and get to the part where you admit you want me? I've had a long day."

Seeing him down there did nothing to make you feel safer.

"Nate-"

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, please, just, for the love of god-", he muttered, as if you were being an inconvenience at the moment and not him, the asshat on his knees. "Would you just relax?"

"Look, Y/N. I love you.", he said, and his hands slowly slid up to the hem of your shirt, his thumb rubbing the skin right under it. "Let me show you."

"You don't love me. Stop saying that."

"Fine, then. I want you. And stop telling me you don't want me, like it's a mortal sin or something.", he warned, gripping the backs of your thighs.

Sadly, you couldn't entirely blame this on the molly this time.

It definitely contributed to the decision, but mostly to the fact that it made every single touch of his explode with a robust... flavour that you couldn't replicate even if you tried.

He smiled up at you so softly you'd think he was on his knees to propose. But no. Instead of opening up a little box, he opened the fly to your pants.

"Can you look at me, please?"

You sighed, looking down. "What?"

"You really don't look like you're against this. I'd even go so far as to say you want me, but you're too much of a pussy to admit it."

You did want him. BUT. You were against this. Because it was wrong. But you were letting him kiss up your thighs, bite at your lower abdomen.

Meaning it was the world according to Nate and it both infuriated you and turned you on.

FUCK.

Hums came from both your mouth and his, and before you knew it, your fingers felt nothing but the locks of his hair, pulling so hard there was no way he wasn't in pain. And he must have been, because gently, so seamlessly, he trailed his hand up to yours, removing it from his hair and interlocking it with his own.

But he didn't pause. His tongue continued doing... well, whatever the hell it was doing that made you want to stab the Earth for being able to produce Nate Jacobs as well as praise it for... well, being able to produce Nate Jacobs.

"You're a virgin?", he asked, breathless, raising a brow in incredulity.

You'd be lying if you said your brain even registered his question - registered anything but his tongue and lips.

"Are you a virgin?"

"Why? Don't tell me this is still a test to see if I'm easy or not-"

"It's not.", he assured, reaching up slowly, and then kissing your cheek of all fucking places. One of his hands trailed back down and into you while the other one immediately closed your mouth, though you had no idea why. It was a fucking desolate high school football field. No one was going to hear anyway.

He grinned, pressing his forehead against yours as he added another finger, curling them as he worked into you. "Shh, shh, shh.", he murmured, after probably feeling the results of you trying not to lose your shit beneath his palm.

"See? We go great together."

You screamed. But it didn't quite carry.

He frowned in confusion for a moment when you made a muffled noise and then muttered an 'ah' as he gently removed his palm from your mouth.

"That's not..."

"Hm? That's not what?"

You could have killed yourself right there, because he smirked is what he did. He smirked when you couldn't finish (and barely even start) your sentences.

"That's not even remotely..."

You were stalling. That was clear. Why? You didn't know. There was no logical reason. He was already fucking inside you, there was no point in backing out of this now.

But there was reason to hesitate.

He sighed, licking his lips and shaking his head in disappointment, brushing hair from your face. "Hey."

"What?"

"If you don't fuck me right now, I will lose my shit. I will cut myself. I will play Russian Roulette again. That work for you?"

Oh, this sick, sick, sick, SICK motherfucker.

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Why you did it? Question for the ages.

You should've said no. You should've gone home. You didn't go home, though, not even after the fact. You probably should have.

Instead, you found yourself back at Fezco's store. Not voluntarily, either, it just seemed your car was as drained as you were, and you forgot to fill it back up.

"Rue?", you called out into what you imagined to be an abyss. Her voice appeared like light at the end of a tunnel. "Hey."

"You high?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I need someone to pick me up."

"Maddy's not free?"

"I didn't check."

"Well.", she groaned, shifting around, clearly in some sort of drug-induced discomfort, "You should. I don't wanna kill you, y'know, you mean so fucking much to me."

The sarcasm in her voice was mildly hurtful, but hey. At least she cared enough not to kill you.

More than Nate had ever cared.

"Okay."

So, of course, you called Cassie. Because no fucking way were you calling Maddy to come pick you up from the store owned by the local dealer, which was suspiciously close to the party thrown by her ex.

The car ride with her was smooth and lovely and peaceful. Because she was smooth and lovely and peaceful.

"You think your car will be safe, out there, all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I told Fez. He knows what to do."

"Y/N, I... I've noticed you've been off, like, the last term or so."

You did not need her therapy session right now.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You're not.", she chuckled, nervously, shaking her head as she slowed down at the red light. "You seem on edge. I think it's cause of him."

"Him?" WHAT? How the fuck did this ditz know?

"Yeah. Like, I don't know, maybe you're in love with him, and you think it's, like... forbidden, because he's a bad influence or something, but you just kinda look... strung out. Like there's a huge secret you're keeping."

She was supposed to be clueless about what was going on around her. Isn't that the thing they say about hot blondes?

"Love? In love? With who?"

"Fezco, of course. I get it, he's a dealer, but he's also hot, and I guess, let's face it, he's quite nice for a criminal."

Oh, thank god. The dumb blonde theory stands.

"I'm not in love with Fez."

"Then why are you so... off?"

"I...", you sighed, deciding to stick to the truth as much as safely possible. "I got in with some bad people during spring break."

The look of concern on her face made you want to apologize and buy her whatever she wanted, or maybe even confess to every fucking sinful thought you'd ever had.

"What? Oh, my god, what? Like, hard drugs and shit?"

"More like guns and shit."

"Y/N, WHAT?!"

"Yeah, it was fucked up, but I'm out of it now, though, so you don't have to worry, okay, Cass? I'm peachy. I'm great, honest! Hey, it's turning amber."

She frowned, turning back to the road in front of her. "You sure?"

You'd never been more grateful for Nate throwing the lamp to your right rather than your left.

You'd never been more grateful for Nate giving you a hickey on your right rather than your left.

You nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, though."

"So. Did you... you went to his party, right? Did you see him? Did you guys talk?"

It took you a moment to figure out that she was talking about her ex.

"McKay? Yeah. Yeah."

"How is he? Did he mention me?"

"He's, um... he's doing fine, I guess. He looks like he misses you, but you know him. He probably won't tell me."

"I just... maybe we... I just want to, um... fix things."

"You should."

"You think?"

You nodded. What the fuck else could you do to distract her from the fact that if she took one look down, she'd see Nate blowing up your phone? "Yeah, you guys were great together."

You instantly cringed. Because that was what Nate had said about you and him. "See? We go great together."'

"I don't know if I want him back, or what. What do you think?"

That I just fucked Nate Jacobs. And that the molly was only half of it. That I'm going to kill myself.

"I think... I think you broke up for a reason, Cass."

She nodded, and the rest of the car ride went in pleasant silence.

Then she dropped you home.

And Rue was waiting for you.

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"You're pissing me off. What is this, blackmail?'

"Yeah. It is. I saw you two in the bleachers, and if you tell people I'm not sober, I'll let it slip that you let Nate Jacobs inside you."

Keep your calm. If you show even a tiny sign of accepting that she was right, you're dead meat. "It was a psych project. He had just finished a practice, so we sat there and finished some work."

"With tequila?"

Silence. Okay. She was not talking about tonight. She was talking about the gun-night. This was salvageable.

"Funnily enough, Y/N, according to what Lexi told me, there's been no 'psych assignment-slash-project.'"

"Rue-"

"So you've not only been lying to all of us, you've been betraying Maddy. And you've done Jules so wrong.'

"Look, you don't even know-"

"Then tell me."

So you did. You told her about the Instagram story, you told her about the Russian roulette, hell, you even told her about the dinner and the scar. What you didn't tell her about was the sex. The mind-blowing guilt-inducing sex.

"But I saw you kiss him on the bleachers."

"I was drunk, Rue. I'd have let the fucking janitor kiss me."

"Look, Y/N, those are my terms."

"You're asking me to lie to everyone about your health, your wellbeing! We're all looking out for you, Rue! Y'can't just blackmail me into not doing right by you."

"As nice as that is, the fact still stands that you fucked Nate."

FUCK!

"Rue, please-"

"He doesn't even fucking want you. He wants to get back at Maddy, and you're too fucked out to see it!"

"Rue, you're crossing the li-"

"I bet that fucking him was the only thing you've been doing this whole time. What, did you fuck him when Maddy was with him?"

Rue laughed after you slapped her and that definitely told you she was so high she couldn't even feel it. "C'mon. Grow up.", she scoffed, tucking hair behind your ear. "Girl code's not important anymore, is it? We're all eighteen - adults - now."

WHY must everyone always do that with your hair? So fucking condescendingly, too?!

"Rue, I didn't fuck Nate Jacobs."

"Then why is he blowing up your phone? Yeah, you think I didn't notice the name on your screen?"

"He blows up my phone because he's a psycho- I told you about the Russian Roulette thing and the gun and the slit wris-"

"Yeah, but you said you asked him to leave you alone and he did. Why would he break no contact? What could've happened?"

"Rue, I am not going to help you fake sobriety in front of your family- I- Rue, what is that?"

She frowned, looking down and following your line of sight. Her bag. The front zip. A needle. She looked back up, deadpan. "Fent."

"RUE! YOU CAN'T EXPECT ME T-"

"Look, Y/N, I like you, I do. There's no reason for you to worry, okay? If you could be quiet, your life will go on as it always does. No reputation loss, no guilt, no embarrassment."

"This will kill you! I can't do that to you, Rue, please!"

"But you can do Nate Jacobs?"

You were genuinely about to strangle this fucking trapper cunt.

"Think about it."

What, had she gotten lessons in blackmail from him?

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That night, you were too fucking exhausted to even question why Nate was knocking at your window. You just opened it for him. You just let him kiss you. You just let him tuck your hair behind your fucking ear.

"I have a question."

"What?"

"Did you visit Shane in the hospital?"

Okay. No way he could have found out about that. You didn't tell a single fucking soul.

"Huh?"

"I beat him up for you. 'Cause he was saying you fucked when you didn't.", he said, his voice oddly calm for a man betrayed.

"I didn't ask you to!"`

"Please.", he scoffed, clapping sarcastically. "Biggest cop-out of the century."

"I didn't!"

"He was calling you a slut, basically. As if you'd just give it up to anyone." What, like he knew you that well?

"Hundreds of people say hundreds of shit about me every fucking day! What am I, supposed to set you on them?"

"You could."

You scoffed.

"I'm being serious. You could say "'sic 'em' " and I'd beat them to a bloody pulp.", he informed, brushing hair over your ear again. "Say it. Tell me someone to beat up. I'll do it. No matter who it is."

"Nate. I didn't ask you to do any of this. I asked you to leave me alone, and you did the opposite!"

"You're acting like I showed up, fucked you, and then just left!"

He clenched his jaw, his grip on the piece of hair he just pushed behind your ear, now shifting to the rest of your hair. "No, cunt. I said 'I love you'. Or did you conveniently forget that?"

Oh. Right. THAT.

"What? You're suddenly acting like a pussy, baby, what's up with that? Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't remember. Don't be a pussy. C'mon, tell me. Oh, yeah, wait a minute, you can't."

"You didn't mean that. You wanted to get what you wanted, so you-"

"You think I say shit like 'I love you' lightly? You think I throw that word around?" Yes, he did, but you didn't need to know that. He decided to deploy the trauma card.

"You've seen what my parents are like. You think I'd abuse the words 'I love you'?"

"I guess not-"

"Yeah. EXACTLY."

Ooh, you were putty in his hands and he almost got a semi because of it.

"Look, okay, fine, Nate, that- that was out of pocket, but you can't expect me to-"

"But I do. I have never lied to you. Have I? I've blackmailed you and threatened you and, fuck, yeah, I've stuck a goddamn gun down your throat, but when have I ever lied?"

"So you're saying you 'love' me and I have to just accept it."

"I'm saying I love you, and you have to just believe it.'

And god help you, you somehow did.

"Rue's blackmailing me."

He mock-gasped. "You're cheating on me, then."

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. Him being so calm in the face of danger should make him look foolish in your eyes, not admirable.

And the molly excuse was being held up by string the breadth of dental floss, honestly.

"Does she use firearms as well? Did you think about me the whole time?" He was clearly trying to make you laugh, and it was working.

He kissed your forehead. "What did she blackmail you for?"

"For or about?"

"Both."

"For : keeping her relapse a secret from everyone. About : the gun-night at the bleachers."

"Okay, so the choice is clear."

"What?"

Nate Jacobs had scared you when he'd said he loved you and when he'd said he'd kill himself for you, but he'd never scared you as much as he did with what he said next.

"We just sit back and watch that bitch OD."

[munsonthings86]

bedtime with steve

warnings: fluff, soft!steve, clingy!steve, new relationship, 0.3k words

an unofficial part two to this fic

steve had you safely wrapped in his arms, palms supporting your thighs that were tight around his waist. he gently laid you onto his plush, doughy mattress without ever unlatching his mouth from yours. he was ravenous for the feeling of your plump lips against his. through the opening of the patterned curtains adorning the square window, the moon's glare that poured into steve's bedroom casted a silver glow along your skin.

he caught a glimpse of your beauty when your smile pulled you out of the kiss, head going fuzzy from being so engulfed in him. the way you were practically glowing in the dark like this was so alluring to him. a true work of art.

"you're so beautiful," he laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief, pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips as he did so. before you could even properly kiss him back, he pulled away, brushing your hair away from your face. "so, so pretty," another kiss. "i can't handle it," he chuckled against your lips. another kiss.

"how'd i get so lucky, hm?" it was more of a question to himself than to you, though. he rested his body on top of yours, but held most of his weight off of you with the help of his forearms. you shuffled under him, opening your legs so that he could lay comfortably between them, folding your arms around his neck to pull him in for another smooch.

your lips were puffy and wet from what felt like hours of kissing steve and you're both breathless when you finally pull away. steve's hand finds your wrist as he trails your hand away from his cheek, lacing his slender fingers through yours. "ready for bed?" he asked, with a dopey smile that disrupted his usually stern features.

you nodded your head, though the last thing on your mind was sleep. "one more kiss?"

"you read my mind," he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you again and again and again. the two of you weren't going to bed for another while.

💌 1 new message from jojo: requests are open and strongly encouraged. whether it’s for a blurb, fic, or just some thoughts in general :) see u in the next one

[partycatty]

johnny cage > character development

reader dating johnny as he trains at wu shi academy and visits outworld

notes: i was inspired by that one fanart of johnny cage inspired by myspace era tom hardy

masterlist <3

•johnny cage sending you stupid fuckboy selfies while he's away at the wu shi academy training to be a champion (he hasn't been thru his character arc yet, he's still johnny "can't cut back" cage)

•he'd pull up his undershirt with his teeth and expose his midsection, looking into the camera with that trademark grin and wink combo that sends his fans to the moon

•sends u update pics on his build, sure, he was built before but his muscles came in even more defined with the excessive training the monks put him through

•would send you every. fucking. photo and video this man takes. ipad baby could not put that damn thing away in chapter 3 good LORD.

•"babe look" and it's a man you've never seen harnessing the power of lightning. what.

•whispered phone sex since he's in a shared room

•send you texts like "missin u like crazy rn" and "cravin that sweet ass rbn"

•of course you roll your eyes at your boyfriend's ridiculousness but you also hope he goes through a genuine development in his life. god knows he needs it.

•and when he finally returns, there's a new spark in his eye. a new, mature sparkle. he tells you about liu kang, outworld, the hourglass, kenshi, kung lao, raiden, the tarkatans, and the lin kuei. he sounds happier. he sounds inspired. and before long, he's running out of the room to make frantic phone calls about a new franchise pitch: mortal kombat.

[theofreakingbell]

wish y'all had the same energy for loving disabled people and treating us like we are worth the trouble of like... masking in public spaces, that u do for hating anti vaxxers and other loud fringe ableists. like right now for most of us anti vaxxers and the like aren't what's killing us, ignorance and apathy around COVID transmission and the ensuing spread is. The virus has evolved so much that being vaccinated no longer means you cannot get or transmit it, and a lot of y'all are walking around none the wiser. (a source if u need one, also acnowledged briefly on the CDC and WHO websites, and has been for multiple years now) If you care about us please try to educate yourself and advocate for better safety measures in your communities, especially in places like hospitals (where death rates are a lot higher bc people's bodies are busy dealing with serious things there, and adding another is a recipe for disaster). you can also donate masks to people who may not be able to afford them if you are able through your local mask bloc, as well as find more hyperlocal info, and free masks and tests if u cannot afford them yourself. Don't just yell at and snark about ableists, show us you care about us! we need your allyship too❤️

[kobanzme]

🐬🐙 a silent admiration,

A mini comic that I illustrated for Jeiazu June, featuring middle school Jade and Azul!

Jade loves Azul's tenacity. Azul's always accomplishes anything he sets his mind upon; it's what makes him fascinating. To stay at the side of someone with such resolve, surely there isn't anything in the world that they couldn't conquer together.

[bananafire11]

Hi tumblr,

I'm tired and I've been considering making a masterpost with boundaries n shit, but this will have to do for rn,

It's come to my attention over the span of posting my Wretched au that some people haven't read my bio. I am a MINOR. I'm saying this because I've gotten comments under my posts or in the reblogs that make me uncomfortable, if not a little pissed off that people are saying innapropriate crap about my au.

Please, please do not sexualize my wretched au. Or any other au of mine for that matter. I create them for fun, not for fetishes. And to clear this up, i'm in no way judging you for liking what you like, but for fucks sake keep it to yourself and off my blog.

Thank you.

[leviscolwill]

rúben blurb — #1

you can all thank dilara for rotting my brain with dad!ruben thoughts, also i think this singlehandedly cured my parents issues

you hated loosing your patience with your daughter, but tatiana drawing on her bedroom wall was your last straw after a long day of terrible news. you always felt awful for screaming at her, especially after the big brown eyes she got from her father welled up with tears.

you let her stay with rúben while you tried to distract yourself with grocery shopping. when you opened your front door still guilty about the whole screaming fit, your house was nothing like when you left it. it was now filled with laughter and a divine smell was luring you to the kitchen. but before you could take a step inside and find out the object of your craving, rúben's tall figure blocked the entry.

“no, no. you take a seat, i have a special chef cooking something for you.” he added a little wink, a silent ‘don't worry, i got this’. you sat down waiting for your little surprise, that revealed itself soon enough, in the shape of a lovely 6 year old girl covered in flour, her tiny hands full of a big plate of pancakes.

“i'm sorry mommy, i didn't want to make you mad.” her little voice, made you forget about every other trivial matters of today. you immediately took tati on your lap, and stroked her hair.

“i wasn't mad at you meu anjo (my angel), mommy just had a bad day. i shouldn't have screamed at you, i'm sorry tati.” you covered your daughter's face and hair of little kisses when rúben joined you two and placed a kiss on both your heads, before taking a seat next to you.

“did you cook these by yourself baby?” you asked to your daughter pointing at the perfect pancakes, she laughed a bit and shook her head.

“no daddy helped me, but i cracked the eggs myself!”

“did you now? i'm so proud of you my little chef, you might have to replace daddy soon.” you knew tatiana was over the moon with the little tasks that were handed to her, and you took the opportunity to tease your husband as well.

his large, flour covered, hand, squeezed your cheeks together, “i'll always be my girls' chef, but i can take a little rat under my hat.”

[crsssie]

congrats on hitting 500 followers!! You deserve it and so much more. Can I request a fic of Damian and a Charlie's angels! reader? Like they're in the getting to know each other dates but it keeps being pushed back because of duties/patrols? idrk you can have play around with the idea. Thanks and congratulations again!!

date night - damian wayne x reader

"Next friday."

"Nope. I have a mission." You grumble. "How does Tuesday night sound?"

"Patrol."

"Isn't your patrol schedule much more flexible than mine?" You frown, reloading your gun. "Hold." You shoot down two more men. "Is it not?"

"I skipped the last patrol for you. It is not a good look on my end." Damian grumbles back, wind blowing into his mic as he overlooks the city.

"You're literally on patrol right now."

"If I keep replacing my nights of patrol with dates with you, father is not going to like it." He pauses. "Hold."

You hear the sound of wind as you assume he swings to the next building. Then, he mutes for a handful of minutes as you look for your ride.

A click indicates his return. "My apologies. I had to change roofs."

"No worries." You grumble, peeling your heels off as you step into the car. "My mission just ended. Wanna meet up at Batburgers and call it a date?"

You hear Damian sigh on the line. "The one by Seventh?"

"Sure." You hum. "Drop me off at Batburgers on the seventh, please."

"You sure?"

"I'll get home safe. You can leave on your own." You nod. "Arranged."

"See you there."

You meet up with him, and somehow, somehow Damian had managed to get flowers before your arrival, cheeks flushed as he hands them to you.

"For you."

"Thank you." You beam.

How kind of him.

[little-pondhead]

Danny moved to Gotham.

Freakshow is touring in Gotham.

Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.

Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.

Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.

Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.

Danny turns to the Joker for help.

The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.

Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.

Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.

[madelynraemunson]

i neeeed you to hear me out on this one okay. okay okay so the song is casual by chappell roan and its about like being super intimate w a guy but he still tells his friends you're just a casual fuck. like some of the lyrics are "i've heard so many rumors that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch" and "knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?" so like. eddie munson. angst. and reader whos fed up with him being so cocky to his friends ab how he gets her off while he brushes her off. PLEASE hear me out 🫣

IM HEARING YOU ALL THE WAY OUT 😩😩🗣️

(as someone who dated a literal INCEL in high school who was charismatic to all and manipulative to none but me this fucking triggered me. i see you boo)

CW: misogynist behavior, adult themes, 18+ minors DNI

eddie sweetie, this isn't you :( but without further a due...

"If you have to go around telling people that you're a good person, you probably aren’t a good person."

incel!asshole!modern!eddie x fem!innocent!reader

WC: 1.3k words | part two here

Ever since you became exclusive with the ‘Town Freak’, your friends have constantly been ripping your ass a new one.

They were all so wrong about Eddie Munson. Because beneath the rugged, edgy persona he likes to put on every day (spewing his ‘Abolish-The-Status-Quo’ Manifesto atop an unsteady table in the cafeteria) lies a woman-worshipping gentleman, a soft, romantic, misunderstood love-sick puppy who would do just about anything to know you like the back of his hand.

Your dream boy.

"No one ever wants to date the nice guy," Eddie would say to you, alluding to himself. You’d constantly deny his claim. “But the jocks? The rabbits in band? The chess club dweebs? Oh yeah, without a doubt. Anyone but the freak."

It all made you think Eddie was created perfectly for you. That there was some sort of invisible string in the halls of Hawkins High, waiting for just the right moment to pull you two together. And when you two kissed that one day after detention, his hands snaked gently around your waist behind the rusty, faded bleachers out by the stadium, it felt like a match made in heaven.

“You gonna be my girl?” Eddie grinned into you, stroking your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Mine and mine only?”

“Yours,” you whispered breathlessly to him before reeling him in for another blissful peck.

And soon, lonely afternoons in study hall turned into D&D campaigns with him and his friends. Mundane weekend errands turned into fishing trips with him and Wayne. And soon quiet, anxious car rides became karaoke and head-banging sessions. Once aimless and confused, lost in the melody of life, suddenly all the love songs were about Eddie. You finally found the one.

It all leads you to believe your friends were just jealous of you. True friends would be over the moon.

This afternoon you had a surprise for Eddie. Just last week, you lost your virginity to him and were still swooning over how caring and tender he was with you. Surely, that is the bare minimum for a guy, but the bare minimum is so hard to come by nowadays. Cookies for Discord night with his friends was the least you can do to show how much you appreciate your boyfriend.

After extracurriculars, you rush home to get the oven going, throwing down in the kitchen to make the best snickerdoodles Eddie will ever have. And after one last look in the mirror, fixing your flirty skirt and your plump glossy lips, you set off to Forrest Hills Trailer Park.

Eddie has his headset on so he doesn’t hear your multiple knocks at the door. You knew he would be home though, dude’s got nowhere else to be on a Friday night. Eventually, you decide to hobble out back, looking through one of the windows by the kitchen that he always cracked open just so he doesn’t hotbox the place.

“I’m right behind you, right behind you!” Eddie warns his friends as he nears them in the game. “Gonna need some backup from Gareth the Great.”

Since he’s focused on his electronics, you decide to shoot him a text message. Hopefully then he’ll come to the door.

Hi baby 💕 I brought you some homemade snickerdoodles :)

You can’t help but smile when you hear your custom text-tone go off. But, to your surprise, you watch as Eddie turns a blind eye, chucking his phone onto the nearby couch instead of answering your text.

What the fuck?

"Ugh. She's texting me again," your boyfriend grumbles to the boys as he proceeds with the game. "She's kinda annoying, to be honest. Gonna wait a while before I respond.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Pressing your ear against the mesh blinds that separated you two from each other, you decide to listen in for a while longer.

“Don’t you think you’re stringing her along, Eds?”

Yeah, don’t you think? you think to yourself.

“Yeah, but… free pink,” Eddie sneers with a tsk and shrug. “However I want, whenever I want. She just makes it so easy.”

Eddie then starts to spill the details of taking your virginity, about how you were “chimping out” underneath him on his couch while Wayne was sleeping. What was a sacred ordeal to you was made to sound like a cheap, subpar experience to Eddie. His commentary sends the boys into a spiral, fits of hooting and hollering like it was the best stand-up bit they’ve heard in a long time. Resentment simmers within you. This can’t be the same boy.

“How’d you get a pretty girl like that anyway?” comes another voice in the call.

“Pretty fucking easy,” Eddie scoffs. “You just tell her exactly what she wants to hear. Just say what she says right back to her and the panties come right off. She’ll think you’re soulmates.”

The room erupts with virtual laughter, followed by obnoxious sound effects that the app enables users to send to one another. Your stomach begins to twist, the forbidden cookie dough you ingested just an hour prior threatening to make its way back up.

“HAHAHA,” someone in the chat cackles. “Eds will do anything for that roast beef.”

“I’ve always been keen on them deli meats. Am I right, boys?”

The snickering commences again. Eddie thanks the Discord guys as they extol him in compliments, encouraging him to write a playbook on how to get a proper lay. Eddie ends up shutting down the idea. But not because he thinks it’s fucked. No. It’s because he claims he doesn’t “have to try” and that you just “put out” at the drop of a hat.

The tray of Eddie’s undeserved cookies shakes in your hands as your body begins to tremble. You’re going to be sick. And just when you think it can’t get anymore twisted, it does.

“Hey, what do you think about that girl from math class with the fat ass?”

“Harmony?”

“Yeah.”

“God if she’s into me too I’d dump my girl in a heartbeat,” Eddie swoons.

Of course he’d gawk over Harmony. Outside of Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham, Harmony Heathers was next up to bat for the Queen of Hawkins High.

“She’s got fucking beanbags where her ass should be. I’d do just about anything for her.”

“And her.”

“Yeah and I’d do her.”

"I'd do her too," Eddie admits.

That’s enough.

You’ve heard enough to know that Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was just like the rest. Throwing the snickerdoodle cookies you made for him into the trash, you sprint back to your car and set off for your house, music blaring the entirety of the commute.

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around

I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

You slam the door to your room the moment you get home. And before stripping down and hopping into the safety of a warm shower, you send Eddie one last text.

Actually, you know what? It’s over. Don’t talk to me ever again.

Washing the grossness off of you was the only way you felt you could feel okay.

You wanted the remnants of Eddie OFF of your body. Hysterically sobbing, you attempt scrub off all the dead skin on your body with a loofah. Frustrated tears roll down your face.

I thought you thought of me better, Someone you couldn't lose

You wanted all the dead cells off of you. You wanted a new body. You wanted a new life.

And you couldn’t wait to grow newer, thicker skin. A new shell of you. It will be skin that Eddie can never say he touched.

You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss,

Fuck Eddie Munson.

I have anger issues

You give the weird kid a chance, and then suddenly he acts like you’re the freak.

[gallaghersgal]

2. “eye contact across a crowded room” and “when they follow the sidewalk rule :(“ + “like imagine realizing it as they gently take the other's wrist and guide them to the other side...omg” maybe ur at the same college party as lip ? thank you !! :)

im actually gonna sob. mature, for drinking, and dirty jokes. tw drunk driving mention. i actually edited this one before posting? (everyone cheered 🥳)

of course the one night of halloweekend you aren't locked in the library studying your ass off for midterms is the same night the cops are out, patrolling like crazy. you'd parted from lip's side for a refill—only your second cup here, but you'd pregamed enough to be thoroughly tipsy—when the music was abruptly shut off and all the brothers began to urgently shush people.

you take your cup from the guy on bar, then lift up on your toes to search for lip in the crowded space. when you see him, you see he's doing the same, eyes locking with yours and giving a 'let's get out of here' nod. it's hard to wade through everyone but you manage it, finding lip and hooking a finger through his belt loop so he can lead you out hands free. past the girls waiting impatiently for the bathroom, down a mostly empty hall, there's an exit out the back.

lip gestures to the red solo cup in your hand, "can't take that with. you wanna finish it?" you pout, but down a good half of your drink before letting him finish the rest. he wrinkles his nose at the sugary flavor and teases you, "jesus, is there even any alcohol in this?"

you follow him out the door, teetering down the few steps and fixing the skirt of your pink and yellow dress. "malibu an' coke, with pineapple juice." once you've caught up with him you get a silly little idea, taking the crown headband off your own head and placing it on lip's, continuing from before, "i usually like diet coke but they only had regular. 's yummy, way better than a beer."

nimble fingers wrap around your wrist as he chuckles, and you quirk an eyebrow at the action. he tugs you to the other side of him with care, making sure you're steady on your feet as he moves to place himself between you and the road. "mmm, chivalry isn't dead i see," you note with a light giggle, softly bumping his shoulders with your own.

the action earns you an affectionate eye roll and a quick kiss to your temple. "yeah, well, 'm not gonna let my lifelong dream of getting freaky with princess peach be ruined by some drunk asshole on the road," he snarks in return, and you find yourself filled with warmth as you clutch your sides, trying to contain your laughter. from the corner of your eye you can see lip crack a smile before saying, "c'mon baby, let's get home."

let's have a sleepover at mine <3 | inbox

[alannah-corvaine]

ꜰꜰxɪᴠ ɢʟᴀᴍᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ▶ ᴅᴀʏ 5 ↳ tank

• Fae Axe • Heirloom Circlet of Fending • YoRHa Type-55 Jacket of Fending • YoRHa Type-55 Bottoms of Fending • Heirloom Gauntlets of Fending • Crystarium Greaves