#Jem’s responses

[90minsofscreentime]

What are your three favorite Starker fan fictions?

For me, without a doubt:

first position: Lanterns burning, flickered in the mind (only you), by @darker-soft-starker

This story probably brings together everything I love best, including Young Tony, High school AU, enemies to friends to lover, slight angst, extremely romantic tension, a touch of drama… *shiver*.

Second position: Under a Violet Rain, by @vaguekiwi

Again, I am seduced by the "enemies to lovers" plot. When love seems absolutely impossible, when everything is set up to make them hate each other, and yet a love still comes. From the first line to the last, it was a pleasure to read this story.

third position: The Pieces I've Lost, by @vaguekiwi and @snowstark

I usually don't like overly pronounced notions of submission and dominance, even more so when the story is riveted on sexual content and sexual degradation. But this story… this story resonates deeply with me. I was interested to see that the dynamics of submission and dominance come from genetics, making people really different from each other from a biological point of view. And all the reasons why I usually don't like these stories, well… those are the reasons why Peter is so different from everyone else in this story. In a way, it reminds me a bit of feminism, and that's why the plot is all the more interesting. And, of course… I want Peter to get a fucking hug.

🥺👉🏻👈🏻 talk with me?

OoOoOo this is a tricky one~~~ 👀👀👀 I am such a hardcore lover of so many fics and writers in our lovely community, and I wish I could list everyone in this response, but I’ll do my best to identify the three starker fics that are my all time favourites at the moment (because darn it- my favourites often change by the day 😅)

(Also, my method here of dubbing each fic my “third” favourite or “second” favourite doesn’t reflect just how much I love all these fics equally. Again, if I could name them all my “first” favourite I would! 😅✨ I’m just going to rank them in terms of how much each fic has impacted me personally and on the depth of their storytelling 💕)

My third favourite:

This is probably the starker fic that I reread the most, as it’s fantastically structured story and moments of simmering tension never cool for me. I am just as heated reading the tail end of chapter two as I ever was reading it for the first time ✨✨ Tony and Peter’s chemistry and sexual tension in this story is so heady and palpable- it makes me feel like I’m experiencing their powerful feelings and desires🥰 (plus all of the food they eat in the beginning sounds soooo delicious 🤤😩)

My second favourite:

Just like you, my friend, I could not ignore @darker-soft-starker’s outstanding work that I have still not stopped gushing about 😅

The multiple comments left on AO3 and original fanart that I’ve created for this incredible story really speaks for itself and I could probably fill the rest of this post with every single thing I adore about the plot, characters and romantic development, but I think in this case I will let the work speak for itself. I implore you: please read this fic if you haven’t already, it’s so much more than I ever imagined a starker fanfic to be and I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with what you find~💖

My first favourite:

Here we have it. My all-time favourite. Arguably the best starker fanfiction ever created. Words fail me when it comes to describing how much this story has influenced me as a storyteller, as a reader and as a member of our little community. If I was ever in doubt that starker wasn’t the pairing for me, this work would draw me back in and remind me just how lucky I am to be able to read art like this - on a beautifully curated fanfiction website - for free. I’ll never get over it, I just love it too much.

The Marvel canon has yet to top these masterpieces ✨

Anywho~ I hope you enjoyed my little ramble 😌 Thank you so much for the ask @lanyakea-universe! I love chatting with you (and any other starkers) about things like this! Maybe one day I’ll be able to finish more than the three fanfics I’ve already posted and impact others on AO3 and tumblr, like these wonderful authors already have for me and so many others 🥰💖💕🌺

#starker #starker community #ironspider #starker fandom #spideriron #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #starker artists unite #Jem’s stuff #Jem’s asks #Jem’s responses #mutuals~ #lanyakea is my mother #lanyakea my beloved #starker my beloved #man I love this community #favourite starker fics #starker fics #tony stark/peter parker #starker fanfictions #starker fanfics

[and-stir-the-stars]

@crumbleclub funnily enough if Evan does like someone's company he probably does just stare at them. He becomes comfortable around Mike and Jem eventually, comfortable enough to laugh and joke and make fun of them, but getting to that point takes time.

He has trust issues (to say the least) from how Will would tell Evan that no one else could understand or want him, and even when he works through those issues around new people, he has a ton of social anxiety, and the only "coping method" he was ever given for it was William teaching him how to put an a (metaphorical) mask to use to manipulate and lure kids close. He neither can nor wants to put that mask on anymore but doesn't really know how to interact around people without it, so I imagine he would do a lot of just quietly watching people to understand more about them when he actually wants to be around someone. His early relationships would be a lot of parallel play; him and the other person each doing their own thing for long periods of time and occasionally quietly checking in to see how the other is doing. Very cat-like, now that you mention it.

#As for jem and mike: i haven't put enough thought into them to have a response lmao #Tho i do think jeremy is a pretty open person and mike is a Very Not Open person #Tho that starts changing once he takes evan in #He has to learn how to be open with evan #And that bleeds into his other interactions but not nearly as strongly as it does with evan #Evan might be the first person mike had to genuinely be open with? It depends on how i flesh out his backstory after he runs away #And his relationship with evan was a Big Struggle. Much Painful. Especially toward the beginning #Which could discourage him from being very open with others for fear of how difficult he knows #It will be and how vulnerable it will make him #And that's not even mentioning all his William Trauma #Mike had to learn to hide away the things he cared about before William could twist them against him #So like. That's a factor. #Anyway now I'm just rambling 🙄 #saffron pawn au

[blueberryaesthetics]

🌺 - Jem

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

He's got really bad hay fever, and always gets kind of congested in the spring!

#[ask responses] #[muse: jem]

[julesblackthorncarstairs]

WHAT

#my first response to this week’s sobh #I’M FREAKING OUT #sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #mina carstairs #jem carstairs #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #the wicked powers

[blackopals-world]

How successful do you think Fellow would be? Honestly part of me thinks he might get beaten up by Jester!Yuu in a kinda slapstick style for bringing a bad name to funny little silly guys

Let me answer that with this

Circus Jem

Fellow tries to claim a new attraction.

Fellow felt very lucky. Very lucky indeed that such a perfect doll waltzed right in.

One so perfect they looked as if they belonged already, no need to dress them up.

Sure the others that came along were just a bonus now that they brought such a gift.

Their face was painted porcelain with a golden star and pastel lips. All dolled up in ribbons and bells. Their clothes were designed to look like the wearer had been pulled from a circus poster.

He could already see those lovely ribbons pulled taunt like puppet strings.

Fellow watched his prey flit from attraction to attraction their charm sending waves of excitement through the other patrons.

They gathered and praised their looks and asked for pictures and took videos. The little clown juggled and danced doing tricks on the merry-go-round.

A mascot. Yes! They were perfect to play that part.

Fellow waited until the little one had separated from the group that fawned over them like a beloved toy. He even laughed at that thought knowing he would steal it from them.

"Are you enjoying your day here?" He asked leaning over the entertainer.

"Absol-tully! I love it here!" They practically chirped.

"And your group? Where are they?" He asked examining his prize more closely. They were in good condition, no visible marks at least.

"Oh, I wanted to get some cotton candy. Villy would never let me have any. But it's my favorite treaty." They whined their lower lip poked out.

Fellow felt an arrow in his chest. He understood why the clown was dotted on. Their strange speech pattern and childish mannerisms could draw anyone in.

"You poor thing. Why don't you come with me. I show you the best candy stall in the park. I won't tell a soul what you did." He said taking the jester by the hand. "

He led them away deeper into the heart of the park.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this but you fit in quite well here. It's a shame you won't be staying longer. You've really brightened this humble park." Fellow said in sorrow.

"I know! This place is just so cozy but also cold. Chilly but no cheese! It feels like home though." They said. Fellow didn't get the meaning behind those words.

" I could use your help to change that. You could stay here. I promise you'll love it. Fun and games every day and an adoring crowd to perform for every night. You would always fit in among the others. All the cotton candy you want and no one to tell you no." Fellow lead the clown to a special room away from the park. A space with a lovely cage just for his new doll.

"Em. No, thanks! I'm not just some clown you know. I'm a jester! As such I need my people. As long as they're happy I'm happy too. But I can't make them happy if I'm far far away. That would make me super sad." They said agast "Hey wait. This isn't the candy place."

"Unfortunately for you, it's not. But don't worry my precious doll. I bring you some to decorate your new cage." Fellow laughed as he raised his staff.

Only for it to be knocked form his hand.

"You lied! You aren't Honest at all. In fact, you aren't even fun. That makes me mad! And I hate being mad!" The jester growled as they grabbed the fox by the front of the shirt.

Fellow struggled to get out of the iron grip.

"Hey wait! I-" He tried to say.

"I'm bored. You're boring me with the flip-flapping of your lips. Now you have to take responsibility and entertain me funny man."

The group was in chaos. They had lost Yuu!

There was no telling where they went. Were they kidnapped?! That clown has no survival instincts and no sense of fear at all.

Lilia suggested they ask if anyone had seen them after all a brightly dressed jester is hard to miss.

And lucky them they found their missing clown standing on a stage with Fellow's staff in hand.

"Come one come all! And see a wonderful show! See the disgrace that is the Fallen Ringmaster! Watch him dance upon my strings!" Yuu commanded the fox to do tricks like a dog. "Jump Fellow! Now Speak! Jump through the hoop and don't get burned!"

The audience was losing it as they laughed at the foolish display. Honest seemed to be under some sort of hypnotic spell but was still fully aware of his torment.

Yuu figured out the staff was a magic tool to control people. They were such a smart cookie.

Unfortunately, the spell didn't last long as Fellow regained his body and turned to attack the little clown.

The group charged the stage to stop him only for-

*CRACK*

Yuu stood there holding a broken staff-well stick in their hands after they swung it full force across Fellow's head.

The fox went down with a thud after getting a definite concussion.

"Oopies!" The jester giggled, bashfully hiding the bloodied staff behind their back.

#jester!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #fellow honest #playful land event #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia

[gotham-ruaidh]

thermodynamics - a 7x03 story

Ian had been gone from camp for some time – his departure had been rather sudden, following a brief but promising glimpse of pheasants in the treetops – but not too long to start worrying.

Had they pushed harder this morning, they would have made it out of the forest by nightfall. But tonight would be another night sleeping rough beneath the trees.

Claire didn’t mind.

That afternoon, as she unpacked the saddlebags and gathered wood for the campfire – Jamie within earshot, speaking in Gaelic to the horses as they drank from a nearby spring – she realized why.

For months – since the fire, the loss of her children and grandchildren, even the whole terrible night with the Browns and the even more terrible aftermath – a small, pinching weight had settled between her shoulderblades. A low, dull ache that no herb or gentle massage could cure.

Psychosomatic, to be sure – but that didn’t make the weight of it any less crushing.

But today, as she bent to gently set down an armful of branches for their fire and stood up, reaching to soothe the ache that she knew would be there…it wasn’t.

She puzzled it out as she continued about her chores. Finding the skillet and spices and knife for cooking; digging out hers and Jamie’s bedroll and setting it half behind a bush; worrying the pouch full of gold bullets sewn within her pocket.

It was the first time in years – since they’d come to the Ridge, really – that she hadn’t had some kind of schedule. Free to take an extra day to get to Wilmington. Free to wander, to explore glades and caves and stop to admire especially large trees.

Free to spend more time with Jamie. Not just in the evenings over dinner or before bed, but to share all moments of the day. Sharing space, and food, and sights, and smiles.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder – and she startled.

“Hush, a nighean,” Jamie soothed. “I’m sorry, I thought ye had heard me.”

Swallowing, she turned to face him. Touched his stubbly cheek with the back of a hand. Worrying the new fine lines at the creases of his eyes.

“It’s all right.” Her voice just above a whisper. “I missed you.”

A fleeting half smile, his hands enveloping her free hand, squeezing. “I told ye I wouldnae go far. I didn’t.”

He knew what she would do even before she did – and he was ready, lips soft and strong as she kissed him.

“I miss you.”

He drew her closer, arms locked around her waist. “We’ve time, before Ian returns…”

Her lips just lightly touched his, beath warm against his mouth. “You must feel it. The need. How strong it is.”

He swallowed, nodding. Touched a small spot in the middle of his chest. “Right here.” His hand settled on her stomach, above her navel. “And here.”

She nodded. “It’s always there, but…more now. Like when we were on the road.”

His hand glided up, tracing the buttons of her shirt, settling on the cool skin of her neck. Eyes locked on hers. Watching her lips part in a small gasp.

He smiled. “Gathering your wee herbs. We fooled nobody – no’ Dougal, or Ned, or Murtagh, or Rupert. Willie, maybe. But I didna care. I had to have you.” Leaned in for a quick kiss. “I wanted your body, but I craved your heart. I have it now, aye?”

Another quick kiss. “I didn’t think I could ever feel this again. Is it because we have lost everything else?”

Frowning, he pulled back a bit. “What are you saying? We haven’t, Claire.”

“We have.” Her hands skimmed his shoulders – worried a new tear in the back of his shirt that she’d need to mend later – eyes fixed on a tree behind him. “We’ve lost our home, our family, our responsibilities. Our routine. No more farming or whisky making for you. No more patients for me. No more waiting for Missus Bug’s dinner, or sitting with you in your study as you talk to the tenants. No more…” She cleared her throat. “No more reading with Bree and Jem by the fire.”

High above, a hawk cried out.

“Don’t hide from me. Look at me, please.”

She didn’t want to – but she did. Found his eyes shining with the same tears.

“Do you no’ remember what I said to you once? That nothing is lost, only changed, Claire.”

She did remember – a night in these same woods, not too long after enduring yet another loss.

“We haven’t lost our memories. Our family isnae wi’ us right now, but they’re alive and safe. Our tenants can bide wi’out us for a while, but we’re coming back. When we’re in Wilmington, and in Scotland, you’ll have patients again and I’ll find my way again. Changes, aye, but not losses.”

He brought his forehead against hers. “I haven’t lost you, Claire. You haven’t lost me.”

She closed her eyes, nodding.

“I can’t even bear to think about what’s to come. If I was to lose you on the crossing.”

“Dinna think of it.” He kissed her cheek.

She shifted slightly and found his mouth in another kiss.

Another kiss.

“We’ve time afore Ian returns wi’ supper, a nighean. That is, if you’re not too decrepit to lie wi’ me in the leaves.”

She smiled against his lips. “I’ll grab a blanket.”

When Ian returned with a pheasant, sometime later as dusk settled in the forest, he frowned that the fire had not yet been started. But he lit it, set to work plucking the bird, sorted the spices and knives. Knowing his auntie and uncle would be quite hungry.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #outlander 07x03

[jomiddlemarch]

and is there honey still 

Kissing Mary Vance was nothing like kissing Faith.

This realization, occurring a moment after the kiss ended, Jem’s hand still at Mary’s slender waist, her normally pale cheeks as pink as a rare mayflower, was followed immediately by the understanding that he’d never be able to tell anyone. There was no confidant he could trust with such a secret, even if he could bring himself to so violate the rules of gentlemanly behavior. It just wasn’t done and that was before he considered speaking of kissing Mary Vance, who was accepted as Miss Cornelia’s adopted daughter, but whose personal history was never quite forgotten.

Susan, should she ever hear of it, would be scandalized beyond comprehension. 

Jem would never eat another slice of her strawberry pie.

His friends and siblings would be confused, Faith put out, her pique covering any feelings of betrayal, for all that there was nothing binding between them.

Mother would be disappointed and Dad would shake his head.

The expression in Mary’s eyes, those queer eyes he now saw were the color of moonstones, told him she understood it all. 

“It’s nothing to make a fuss about,” she said. Faith would have tossed her head making such a remark, her golden-brown curls shown to advantage, but Mary only looked at him steadily and let the hand that had been on his shoulder drop to her lap.

“You hold yourself too cheap, Mary,” Jem said. 

“That ain’t—that isn’t possible,” she replied. “Anyway, what’s a kiss amount to?”

It was a good question, one Jem had thought he’d known the answer to, just as he thought he’d known the answer to the question she was laboring over at her desk in the empty classroom, a piece of paper scribbled over and crossed-out, grey smudges on the foolscap, on Mary’s white cuffs. She would’ve laundered them herself, being Miss Cornelia’s daughter not relieving her of her housekeeping duties, chores she’d call them though Jem knew none of his sisters had ever helped even pinning clean clothes to the line.

He supposed a kiss could be an ordinary thing, a peck on the cheek or the lips, a greeting, friendly and inconsequential as a wave, a forgettable gesture of a mild affection.

Kissing Mary Vance was nothing like that.

He could say, in all honesty, that he hadn’t planned it. He’d been pointing out something in her writing, a tricky bit she’d gotten tangled up in, and she’d been peering down at the page, trying to make it out. When she’d perceived her mistake, she’d looked up at him, her expression one he’d never seen before, victory and pride and delight all swirled together, altering her face from one he’d recognized without being aware of it into one he’d been startled to discover. Without a word, without a thought, he’d leaned in and kissed her parted lips before she crowed over her achievement or thanked him, the caress impetuous, a whim, irresistible.

She was irresistible. He’d grazed her lips with his own and in the space before the next heartbeat, he’d cupped her jaw with one hand and let the other drop to her waist to draw her close. He felt the most tremendous desire for her possess him, everything else dropped away. She tasted, quite impossibly, of honey, though that was perhaps because he had always liked honey best, and she was warm in his embrace, coming closer when his hand at her waist reached around her back, sighing a little when he stroked her cheek and angled her head to be able to kiss her more deeply. Every second, his desire for her ratcheted sharply upwards and she met him, her hand clutching his shoulder, her sharp tongue sweet in his mouth. She kissed the way a fast girl kissed but there was a terrible innocence to her response that made him know she’d never kissed anyone else, whatever she might have intimated to his sisters and her friends.

He couldn’t say why he’d broken away. 

A sound in the hallway or her sudden stillness when his hand grazed her breast, the need to breathe, the pounding of his heart felt throughout his whole body. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Mary went on when he was stayed silent.

“Are you sorry?” he blurted out, and hearing the words he became suddenly terrified that he’d transgressed, become that monster Reverend Meredith always warned of in his gentle way, a man consumed by his appetites, greed and lust. “Oh, God, Mary, have I made you do something you didn’t want—”

“As if you could!” she said, wry again, Mary Vance again as he’d ever known her. If she’d wanted to, she would have slapped him, he was sure of that. “There’s no person living who could make me do what I didn’t want and certainly not you, Jem Blythe.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” he said, chastened, still too close to her. Still tasting the honey-sweetness of her lips, feeling the sound of the quiet moan of hers he’d swallowed in his throat.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she offered. “Or ever again. It could be just something that happened once, like as if you’d knocked over my inkwell, and we can forget about it. If that’s what you’d like. To be easy about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” he repeated, agreeing. An inkwell knocked over would leave a stain, one endless scrubbing would never entirely remove. “But I won’t forget. I shan’t.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” she said, her old tone mixed in with a new softness. He’d mussed her hair and some of the loose strands caught the light, a far cry from the usual trig appearance Miss Cornelia insisted upon. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see this Mary again, but it might be enough, to have seen it this one time. It was more Walter’s way to say he’d carry it as a talisman, but Jem felt it without saying it, that to have this moment might serve him well in the future.

“Mind you turn that paper in,” he said. 

“Mind yourself, then,” she said and turned away.

He wouldn’t see Mary alone for another ten years. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” Mary said, sitting down beside him, facing the water. She tucked her skirt around her and made no effort to conceal her sturdy, scuffed boots. It was a cool evening, cooler by the shore, but she didn’t have a coat or even the old wool shawl she’d refused to give up before he’d left for France. He shrugged off his own coat and offered it to her. He’d be warm enough in his heavy jersey, one the fisherman down at the harbor wore when the wind picked up.

“Not Rainbow Valley?” he said.

“Why would you go there? You’re not a child anymore. Haven’t been for a long time, unless I miss my mark,” she said. 

“No, you’re right,” he said. “Not for a long time.”

“You don’t have to talk to me about anything. Not about the War or Walter or being a prisoner,” she said. She said it without any particular tenderness, which was the most consoling part. He recalled, very dimly, that before she had come to Miss Cornelia, she’d lived through her own horrors, yet spoke of them rarely if at all.

“Don’t have to tell me about any French girls either,” she added and he laughed. 

It was the first time he’d laughed since he came home. Since he came back to the Glen, anyway, and called it home without being able to fully mean it.

“Not much to tell there. I mostly saw nuns and the Red Cross nurses are awfully brisk, whatever their nationality,” he said.

“I’ve always thought Cornelia would make a good nun, for all that she’s married,” Mary said.

“Perhaps,” Jem replied. The waves kept breaking on the sand and it was dusk, romantic if you wanted it to be. Mary had his coat wrapped around her shoulders. Jem felt scoured, raw and empty.

“Why’d you come, if you don’t expect me to talk?” he asked after several minutes of silence.

“I guess because you need someone who doesn’t expect you to talk but who’s willing to sit nearby, without fussing over anything,” she said. “I’ve plenty of handwork and housework to deal with at home. I’m perfectly content to sit and be idle and there’s nothing you can say or not say that can hurt me. I’m not hurt the way you are, I can bear whatever you need—”

“They can’t at home,” he said. Mother, with grief in her grey eyes and grey in her auburn hair, and Rilla, grown into a mother before she was a wife, Dad with something more broken inside him than any of the rest. Susan and Dog Monday and the letters from Di and Nan, blotted and halting. Una, who might as well be one of the French nuns who tended him, all of them mourning Walter and trying to rejoice at his return. Jem, trying to keep them from hearing any of his nightmares, biting his tongue when they spoke at a meal of the future or the past.

“I know,” she said. “Faith Meredith’s married a Brit. Officer, Lord Something Hoity-Toity of Fancy Abbey-on-High.”

“I’m happy for her,” Jem said tiredly. “We were childhood sweethearts, that’s all.”

“I know. Just wanted it said so you’d know I know,” Mary replied.

“If she’d waited, I wouldn’t have wanted her. I wouldn’t want her to have me now, as I am,” he said. “Befouled, diminished—”

“Walter’s dead, Jem. You don’t have to speak in his voice,” Mary said. 

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were. If you don’t think I’d remember, after all those afternoons, those walks and rambles, listening to him, well then. You’d be wrong. I remember,” she said.

“I want Faith to stay as she is. Beautiful, golden, untouched, a lovely memory from my splendid childhood,” Jem said.

“Good Lord, she’d far better off than I thought, even without taking a castle into account,” Mary exclaimed. “Maybe her Lord Gawain-Excalibur-Avalon actually treats her like a women. A person.”

“I didn’t know you liked the Arthurian legends,” Jem replied, taken aback by Mary’s remark, choosing to deflect.

“I liked the sword. And the Lady of the Lake with her own place,” Mary said.

“I thought it would be like that, the War, knights going out,” he said. “I knew there’d be wounds and death, but I thought there’d be honor—"

“You always were a bit of a fool,” Mary said. “Stands to reason though, the way you were raised.”

“We had a—you’re right,” he said, realizing he did not have to defend his parents or Ingleside. “Mother was so careful for us to be well-loved. To live in a world where we might imagine ourselves heroes or able to speak with the fairies—you would have done better than I at the Front, Mary.”

“No one would do better,” she said. He braced himself for her to talk about his medals, his valiant efforts in the prison camp, how he tended those around him with what little he had. How many men had died in his hands, their blood the scent in his nose as terrifying as gas. “You lived.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“Come here, then,” she said, shifting to kneel facing him. The moon had risen and it suited her, her eyes gleaming like opals, her hair silver, the shadow soft around her bare throat. She reached a hand to touch his cheek, rough with the whiskers he hadn’t shaved for the past few days. “Come here, James,” she said and the sound of his name startled him enough to move closer. To let her draw his face to hers for a kiss.

For a moment, he was seventeen again and Walter was alive, the fields of France green, the chestnut trees in leaf. Then he heard a wave break and felt Mary’s hand move to the nape of his neck, her fingers callused, and he tasted salt mixed with honey. She beckoned him and he put his arms around her, holding her tightly, trying to lose himself in her embrace. Letting her find him.

They were alone with the moon and the sea. There was no hallway and Mary kissed him well enough there were no memories, not of France or Germany or Holland, not of the ship or the train or the graveyard with the stone too white, the wilting mayflowers at its base. There was nothing Mary would not do, no end to the comfort she would offer. His hands were at her waist and her breast, eased beneath her skirts, and she coaxed him on. When he brought both back to cup her face, she’d smiled under his lips. When he lay back against the sand and brought her to lie next to him, her head resting upon his chest, she’d come with him.

“I should have asked, Miller Douglas?”

“He married Ada Parker six months ago. I didn’t shed a tear, except that they should be happy,” she said. “To be honest, I didn’t fancy being a shopkeeper’s wife, but I would have made the best of it.”

“I’m alive, but I don’t know what I have to offer,” Jem said. Mary thumped him on the chest, hard enough to notice, soft enough to be nothing more than a scolding.

“You’ve yourself and I’m myself. You don’t have to offer me anything,” she said.

“That’s the first lie you’ve told,” he said.

“Then remember me. This. How it was, how it might be,” she said. “Grieve and suffer and if you want, I’ll be there for it. Or you can come round in a while, when you’re sorted out. I’m in no hurry. I’ve an idea of how to run a doctor’s house, no offense to your mother or Susan, and I’d like to try it out some time.”

“Will there be much pie?” Jem asked.

“There will be honey-cake, pots and pots of clover honey ready to drizzle. That’s your favorite.”

“Call me James again,” he said.

She propped herself up on his chest so he could see her face, the curve of her lips, her silvery hair hanging loose around her cheeks.

“I believe you meant to say, please, James. Mind yourself, then.”

Tagging @gogandmagog who posted this:

DIANA, teasingly: “You, anyhow. I saw you kissing Faith Meredith in school last week ... and Mary Vance, too.”

JEM:- “For mercy’s sake, don’t let Susan hear you say that. She might forgive it with Faith but never with Mary Vance.” From The Blythes Are Quoted

And @freyafrida who wrote "also want to write jem/mary fic now although i have zero ideas for anything apart from the ship"

#anne of green gables #jem blythe #mary vance #jem/mary #rarepair #canon au #post wwi #angst #tw: PTSD #romance #faith meredith #walter blythe #gilbert blythe #anne shirley #kissing #glen st mary #hurt/comfort #miss cornelia #mary vance is a total realist #POV Jem #veteran!jem

[rustboxstarr]

🍃Things I think about🍃

Some short Eddie Munson scenarios that I think about :)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female plus size reader

CW: allusions to smut, talk of pregnancy, crying, reader having an OF, reader isn't stated as plus size but has plus size qualities, reader has multiple body modifications, probably more hahah

A/N: Thank you so much for the support I love you all sm!! Don't worry if your ask hasn't been answered (None of them have, sorryyyy Im a slow writer) they're in the process and will be answered ❤️

These are just small scenarios but please comment if I should do a part two or even make fics of them (if so comment which one)

Love yas!

Check out my other works!

🍃 Waking up late in the afternoon and finding Eddie isn’t next to you in bed. Not thinking much of it you groggily get up, figuring he’s brewing coffee or just sat watch tv in the living room. Adjusting your baggy boxers that had twisted themselves around your thighs in the night. You walk out the door. Hair in a mess, curls pulled straight, frizzy baby hairs, scruffy ends. The trailer was warm last night, and there was certainly no need for anything other than those boxers. Sighing and stretching broadly, tits on full display, in your specific stretching position quite perky as you walk into the kitchen. 

It’s weirdly quiet… no coffee brewing, no tv on, that’s when you open your eyes properly to see  a picnic table set up with six kids sitting around it staring awestruck at you. Your eyes go wide and you panic and duck down behind the counter. 

“Eddieeee…” a cautious question “EDDIE!” A shriek now. Eddie stumbles awkwardly out of the bathroom. “What? What!?”

🍃Being friends with Eddie and thinking nothing of it when you open the front door after the bell rang, only wearing a sports bra and sweatpants. “Munson” you step away from the door walking back to the kitchen “Fancy seeing you here, what can I do for you?” No answer, just big watery eyes staring at you dumbstruck, still stood awkwardly in the doorway “ehe you good?…” you laugh awkwardly. Eddie clears his throat, tossing his shoes off “uhuh” is all the response you get as he swallows thickly. 

🍃 Eddie lies spread out on the bed, legs apart, you come in and lie down resting your head on his crotch. “What are you doing?”

 “you lay on my stomach all the time” you reason 

“yeah well you don’t have a dick, you’re making me hard” 

“oh really, is my face so close to your cock making you all nervous?” you tease.

🍃You on all fours in front of the mirror twerking “what are you doing?” his hand resting on his crotch “I’m bored” “continue, I’ll just be here” whips his cock out and starts stroking it PFFT 

🍃Reader dresses very formal for her job, she’s like a teacher or something. You befriend Eddie and one day forget your phone in the breakroom, Eddie who’s also a teacher finds it and brings it to your house. Instead of seeing you in a tight pencil skirt, a cream blouse and strappy heels, you open the door, hair all disheveled in a high messy bun to keep it out of your face while cleaning your house, multiple ear piercings usually hidden by your hair at work, various rings, crosses and jems littering your ears, a septum which must usually be flipped up in your nose to hide it, dressed in a baggy tank top and little booty shorts, body littered with tattoos. When Eddie first has sex w u, the formally dressed teacher he discovers your nipples are pierced as well as your navel and as if that didn’t blow his mind enough so is your clit. All body modifications fit to hide under your clothes.

🍃OMFG Eddie meeting Steve’s friend, you, and at some point your tattoo is accidentally revealed and he’s like out loud “cool tattoo, funny it looks familiar” you laugh, joking around “maybe you’ve seen me in porn or something” it’s a joke, to the others but you’re secretly wondering if he has seen you in porn, not porn but your only fans.

 🍃 your mom storming into your bedroom because Dustin told her Eddie was asleep in your bed. “Damn it’s 7 am” you say as you rub your eyes of sleep, Eddie passed out naked next to you on his stomach, you're quick to pull the blanket up to properly cover his ass.

🍃Ripping the door open to the small trailer and barging inside you find Wayne startled into sitting upright from his slouched position on the couch watching a soap opera. “Is he here?” You grit, “um he’s in his room, what’s going on???” He asked utterly baffled, he’s met you a few times, from what he could tell you weren’t together or even friends, more like acquaintances, and each time he’d seen you it was briefly, surrounded by the rest of your mutual friends or sneaking out of Eddie's bedroom at three in the morning accidentally stumbling into Wayne coming home from his night shift. 

You don’t answer him, instead you stomp down to the left, opening Eddie's bedroom door just as you had the front door, there he is, the bastard just relaxing in sweatpants low on his hips reading a comic book. “You!” You shout as you step foot over the threshold that is his dump of a bedroom. Eddie perks up surprised, putting his comic book away. “You motherfucker!” He frowns at you, you’re seething, fists clenched, stood in boxers and an oversized Magnum PI shirt, tattered and covered in holes. You hadn’t bothered getting dressed before storming out of the bathroom and running to your car. 

“You got me pregnant!” You shout, a blood red painted finger pointing accusingly at him. That’s when Eddie properly sits up, his eyes darting between you and his uncle baffled and awkward staring at you in a daze. 

“What?” He gasps “You said you wore a condom!” You continued shouting, no care in the world that his uncle was stood witnessing the whole ordeal. “I did!” Eddie was so confused and starting to panic as he stood up too fast. “Well clearly something went wrong cuz’ I’m fucking pregnant Eddie!” 

“Are.. are you sure?..” Eddie asked, stepping closer to you, carefully inching his arms closer to wrap around you. He looked over at his uncle, a small nod of his head to try and signal for him to give you both some privacy.

“Yes I’m fucking sure you idiot!” You thrust the pregnancy test that was in your grasp at his chest. As he stares down at the test you begin pacing. “I’m 19 and fucking pregnant” your eyes begin to tear up “I can’t go to fucking collage or get a good paying job now, I can’t even get a good job to pay for this stupid thing!” Eddie drops the test on his bed as he makes a new attempt at approaching you, this time successful as he wraps his arms around your arms to keep you compressed against him. 

“Do… do you want to keep it?” He asks in a whisper. “Well I can’t fucking abort it! I don’t have the fucking money for that! And neither do you!” You begin sobbing now. Grasping onto his shoulder blades in stress. Eddie hushes you, “Ok listen, just sit down, I’ll go make you some tea or something and we can talk about this, yeah?” His hand is cradling your head against his chest while you work yourself up into panic mode, the other hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“Okay..” you sniffle as you release him. Once you’re seated on the bed Eddie rushes out of the room, his heart slows from its panic slightly when he sees Wayne is already putting the boiler on. “I’m gonna go out for a bit, give y’all some privacy but when I come back you bet’r have a plan, alright?” Wayne says sternly as he deadpans Eddie. All he can do is nod rapidly as Wayne makes his way to the door, in the other room you’re crawling into a fetal position sobbing into Eddie's pillow as you comfort yourself.

#80s #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson has adhd #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson headcons #Eddie Munson plus size reader #Eddie Munson x plus size reader #Eddie Munson x reader #modern Eddie #modern Eddie Munson #modern Eddie Munson headcons #modern Eddie headcons #headcanon #headcon #StarrWrites #StarrThinks

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇꜱ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni 18+ - humping, riding, m/loss of virginity & will being pussy drunk.

summary - for seven minutes, both you and will are stuck in a closet, in a brothel.

word count - 2,296.

will herondale.

You hated him and you tried to reason why Charlotte would put the both of you in a mission, currently, the two of you had tracked after a Demon, Baleron, who had stolen an important artifact from the Clave and since the two of you were brilliant fighters, Charlotte had assigned you to go with Will.

If it weren’t for Jem’s illness you would’ve pushed him to take your place, but unlike the blue-eyed freak who had ran beside you, you had a good heart and didn’t force Jem to take your place in the condition he was in.

“A brothel?!” You hissed as you had watched the green skinned being fiercely enter the lewd business and after you had spoken you had heard the vexatious chuckle echo from the back of Will’s throat.

Annoyed, you had whipped your head towards Will who had already looked down at you. “Can’t look down at the man for wanting to beat off his needs,” he defended and as kickback you had rolled your eyes fore you began to drag your feet towards the building.

It hadn’t been fancy, verily, it had seemed like a place where people cheaply paid for a good lay. “You’re telling me you never had moments where you had to indulge within your needs?” He hummed and in response you had looked up at him again.

“Will,” you threatened.

“I’ve read about women and their enchanting desires, sometimes I see women enter brothels for pleasure more than men---” annoyed you had smacked your hand against his arm and pulled him close to you.

“We focus on the mission---”

“Oh, so after the mission we can—” yet, before he could finish his sentence you had immediately darted towards the entrance of the brothel, agitated by his need to irritate, perhaps that’s why he had always victimised you, your way of reacting so quickly to his behaviour.

With Will behind you, you had pushed the entrance open and revealed the amorous world of carnal to the both of you, and that was not what had surprised you both, not because it was a brothel, with the quick scan of the place, the both of you had realised it was a Downworlder brothel and immediately the two of you had taken a step back.

“We need the invisibility rune,” you whispered and with a slight hum, the dark-haired boy had agreed to your statement and immediately, the two of you had hovered your stele stick over the perfected tattooed runes of your skins, you had been quicker than Will and when you finished with the task, you had quickly taken a glance to his exposed skin and took in the intricate details of his body.

You had always thought the runes on Will’s body had always complimented his appearance, you had reticently agreed that Will was an attractive man, but if it weren’t for his personality, you would’ve jumped his bones earlier, though his tart mouth had made it impossible.

Now confident, the two of you had re-entered the Downworlder brothel, the complicated differences of each Demon, Werewolf and Vampire that had stood in the hall, kissing and making love had spun a feeling in the both of you, nevertheless, focused on tracking the green-skinned Demon you had trailed after his trail.

He had a blue-skinned monster in his arm and a briefcase that had held the stolen artifact in his other hand. The duo had entered a room and both you and Will had watched how the man had laid the blue-skinned demon named Merena, against the bed and placed his briefcase beside the bed ere he entered the bathroom connected to the bought room.

“What do we do? We can’t just take it, they’ll know,” Will said and in quick thought, you had scanned the bedroom and identified a closet the both of you could hide in and hastily you had dragged the taller being inside with you, and once the closet doors closed behind you, it had immediately alerted the two Downworlders.

“What was that?” The woman questioned, but in need to take high of his pleasure, Baleron had shrugged it off.

“Nothing Merena,” he smiled and tense, the both of you had stood still in the closet, it had been wide but not large in size, which had made it utterly complicated for both of you and Will. Will who had his back pressed against the closet and your chest pressed against his chest, had surprisingly not comment on the circumstance and anxious, you had bit the bottom of your lip as you had already dread what was to come.

Both Baleron and Merena had begun to kiss and the commence of their love-making had been quick. “Wouldn’t it be better to sit down?” You whispered, “for more space?”

“Oh, yes,” Will quickly responded and without second thought, the both of you aimed to sit down, without realising that you’d had to sit on Will’s lap as there had been no more space for the both of you, swiftly, you had damned yourself the moment your legs had been at each side of his, and as his arms wrapped around your lower back, you could feel his eyes stare up at you examining each involved detail of your face, in need to say something, he had held himself back, a rare enfeebled side of him reaching to its peak.

“Wouldn’t it be best to wrap your arms around my shoulders?” He inquired, “for more space?”

Quickly, you had nodded your head, both your limbs finding way to lock around his shoulders and during the movement, you had pulled yourself higher up his lap, the crotch between your legs finding contact with the solid arousal of his and immediately you had paused, the both of you hadn’t faced each other but you were assured the both of you had thought the same thing.

It was definite that the loud moans and skin contact that had occurred outside of the closet had not made the situation any better and without moving a muscle, your covered area had remained on top of his. Aware that if either of you had moved it would commence friction, a friction that would alert a stirred reaction from the both of you, and you hadn’t wanted that, had you…?

Withal, the way he had grabbed and closed his arms around your waist in a demeanour that had stated protection and security had moved you and you silently insulted yourself that it had did, though the only person you could blame was yourself, as it was your fault that the two of you had been stuck in a closet and in this position, there was no one else to blame but you the moment you had gently rocked yourself against his covered member, a soft moan gently had echoed from the back of your throat and surprised, Will had sat up straighter than before, his hands had moved lower to your hips while you had erotically pleased your against him.

“Well, look at what we have here,” he breathed and you could feel his hot breath fan against your neck as he had slowly joined your movements, his lips now pressed against your skin while you had achingly moaned at the stinging pleasure his covered cock had brought to you.

“Fuck you Will,” you whimpered as your pace began to hasten.

“I’d love that,” he teased, and raw and sensual, the Herondale boy had sucked on your skin and had allowed you to move however you had wanted against him, truthfully, he had liked it, the way you had moved beastly as you humped for your pleasure, your carnal and obscene movements enough to push a grunt and amatory moan from his lips as he had then moved his paws against your buttocks.

You had now faced him. you had unbuttoned your shirt to expose the plump skin of your body to Will as you had silently ached for more, you had eventually pushed yourself to expose your needs. “I want more,” you whispered and immediately your other hand had reached down his trousers and hastily pulled out his heated cock that had lewdly sprung out from his clothing, the member strong and tall, and the tip red and desperate for the warmth of your cunt.

Silent, you had aimed to pull your lower clothing down your legs and you could feel the rousing nectar trickle down your legs as you had hungrily looked at his cock, you had liked it, it had curved forward and been a good size of tall and girthy.

“I’ve never done it before,” Will quickly whispered and surprised you had flicked your head up towards him, astonished by the words that had left his mouth, and flushed, he had looked up at you and saw the smile that took upon your mouth.

“Then let me be the one,” you said and without second thought you had hovered the wetness of your crotch against the angry coloured tip of his cock and gently rubbed it, the small and quick chafing enough to bring a moan from each of you had influenced you to sink down his shaft, allowing the width of his cock to smoothly spread you open, and the troubled whimper that had left Will’s throat had struck you vulgar.

How much of a confident man he had always expressed himself to be, had only had his cock wrapped around his hand and not the warmth of a woman’s cunt, until now.

Slow you had begun, riding the length of his cock you had watched the way he had pulled his head back, his hands still strong against your buttocks to aid you to bounce against his member while you had rocked your hips forward pleasuring the both of you as the sounds of the smacks of your skins had heightened in the closet.

Eager, Will had gently followed your lead, moving his body in the complimentary rhythm that had aided the two of you to reach the crest of pleasure, each movement had been faster than the last, and each movement had been rugged than before.

Your pearl had ached in pleasure as you pulsed around him, and your soft cries enough to move him into a tousled and cragged demeanour. It had been so wet and noisy, while the head of Will’s cock had dragged against the inside of your walls, the arch of his shaft easily pressing against the soft areas of your pussy that had caved you to quiver against him, your eyes wet in ruffled bliss while Will began to take more control of the action.

“Will!” You cried out as you could feel him buckle his hips upwards, vulgarly drunk he could feel drool slip from the edges of his mouth as he found difficulty to put together the words that he had wanted.

He had groaned and within the moan you could hear your name, his eyes had rolled to the back of his head as he had animalistically rolled his hips forwards and pummelled his cock deep inside your cunt edging you to struggle to remember what your own name had been and the atmosphere you had currently been stuck in.

“Will!” You whimpered, your fingers had now traced the edges of his jaw before the both of you had pressed your lips against each other, your lips sore but soft within the hungry embrace the both of you had drowned yourself in, and obsessed with the warmth and tightness you had brought around his cock, the world had currently only included the both of you.

“Just like that! Just like that!” You moaned as you could feel your climax desire to peak.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured before he had found his lips latched around your exposed nipple, stimulating the bud with his flushed mouth Will had continued to fuck his cock inside your cunt driving and talking you down your orgasm into an intense surge, the nectar of your dribble had wrapped around his girthy shaft and shamelessly you had twitched against him while he continued to use your body to ride out the guaranteed orgasm that had chased after him.

His eyes now focused on you, he had whispered once more, “you’re so beautiful,” he repeated and as your eyes had locked with his, you had noted the drunk and high expression that had been written in his face and orbs, as he chased after his climax while you had now slowly humped against his cock, in sync intoxicated with the lovemaking the two of you had shared, Will hadn’t wanted it to stop.

The thick white ropes of his cum had seeped down your pussy and had coated the walls with its nectar and befuddled, the both of you had kissed once more, unashamed by the mess the two of you had created in the closet as you had expressed the now unleashed aroused and passionate feelings the both of you had always had for each other.

“We need to focus on the mission now,” you whispered and in slight hopelessness, Will had gently shook his head, pussy-drunk and aching for more of your cunt.

“I need more,” he replied and beholden of the hold you had over him, a small smile had been placed on your face.

“When we get back to the institute, after we finish the mission,” you responded, “and if you’re a good boy we can try more positions.”

Pleased, Will had nodded his head before he had pulled up and buttoned his clothes in the tight space the two of you had fucked in, already buzzed by the future lovemaking he would partake with you.

♆

#shadowhunters #will herondale #will herondale x you #infernal devices #the infernal devices #will herondale x reader #will herondale smut #shadow hunters #herondale x reader #smut #lemon #will being a dick but oh well #will x reader

[corpsebasil]

Hellllo? NIKOLAI HUNGER GAMES PART THREE

he’s shirtless because Lark wanted him to be I don’t make the rules 🙄

Need you a dress like this for the opening ceremony. You can see Lark behind her in the first clip clad in gold. Lmao.

“Oh Jem..” You breathe, a hand flying to the bejeweled neckline of your gown barely an hour before the chariot ride. It’s a scandalous piece, for sure, your outfits always are, but it’s more than you wore during your own games when you had a different prep team.

“We were inspired by the mythologies of war goddesses.” Jem explains, her gelled hair smelling strangely like maple as she finishes adjusting your dress. Beading clinks together as the golden fabric moves. “Nikolai is in something similar. He’s going to look divine.”

“Lark didn’t convince his team to get him naked?”

“Unfortunately no. But there’s always next year.” The two of you share a secretive smile—of course there will be no next year. Jem has always been an optimist, though. Or delusional. “Xiomara said no to the powder. She’s been speaking with District Twelve’s team.”

“Cinna?” You question and she nods.

“Yes. The gossip is that every team is doing something with lights this year. We want you and Nikolai to shine on your own. Just smile and wave. You’ll please the crowd. You always do.”

The both of you exchange a glance before you turn to her, clasping her pale hands. Her gorgeous almond-shaped eyes meet yours, the deep brown of them vulnerable.

"I'll miss you." You admit, forcing a weak smile.

Her smile own is shaky as she pulls away, adjusting your dress.

"Shine for me."

-

The chariot ride went as expected. Surprisingly enough, Nikolai was more well-covered then you would've thought; clad in gold armor from his leather-sandal-strapped-feet to his head, a large, gladiator-type helm shading the bottom half of his face from you. When you'd followed District One, he'd laughed, raising a spear (dulled, of course) in response to the wild crowd.

You, on the other hand, had stared coldly at the screens reflecting an image of you that resembled a goddess walking among mortals.

Now, though, you were leaning against a wall, scanning familiar mentors and victors. There was Chaff and Seeder, laughing with a blond man you knew to be Haymitch. There was Cashmere and Gloss, a duo that had attempted small talk with you and had failed, your icy smile enough indication that you had no interest in the two idiot bastards. There were the Morphlings, and--

And then Katniss is by your side, approaching in a smoldering ensemble that makes you raise your brows.

"Need a fire extinguisher?" You offer, a coy smile on your face.

Katniss looks like she'd rather be anywhere else. A forced, awkward expression you suppose is meant to be pleasant crosses her face, and you swear an invisible man is holding a gun to her head when she says the next words.

“I wanted to say…sorry.” She tells you, even though she looks like the words leave a bad taste on her tongue. “For Clove and Cato. I know you were their mentor.”

You remember. Of course you remember.

            You remember watching Clove cry out for Cato, your hands gripping Nikolai so hard you worried you’d bruise him. He’d taken the pain from you in a physical way, the only way he could, as you watched both Clove and Cato die one by one. They were vicious kids, but they were sweet to Nikolai and you as well as each other. Clove, especially, reminded you of the younger version of yourself. The version untouched by the horror of the arena. Nikolai had told you, under his breath, to try and stay as strong as you could in the mentor lobby. No one could forget the way you’d lost your mind years before when another one of your tributes died: Coen.

You smile tentatively at Katniss but give her a serious look, your eyes locking together in an unbreakable hold.

“They were just kids. Bloodthirsty as ever, sure, but kids.” When she flinches slightly, just a twitch, you press on. “But so were you, Katniss. You can’t be blamed for their deaths. And besides, you ended his suffering, didn’t you?”

The choked noise you’d let out when you watched Katniss put an end to Cato’s torturous death had gotten glances of shared relief from other mentors. No one had been happy, regardless of their districts of origin, to see Cato being mauled to death for the Capitol’s entertainment. You remember Nikolai’s hands rubbing your shoulders gently, his voice quiet as he murmured reassurances. That night that two of you had shared a bed, your muscles stiff, unmoving and unspeaking as you grieved.

Katniss’s expression is bleak but severe as she nods, soaking in your words.

“Okay.” Is all she says before turning away and leaving you alone.

You’re still feeling slightly winded when Nikolai wraps his arms around you from behind, tugging you against him. Other than Katniss and Peeta, you both are the only victors here in a relationship.

“What’d she have to say?” He asks against your hair, keeping his voice out of range from everyone but you.

“Cato and Clove.” Is all you respond with, and you feel him nod.

“Ah.”

“Well!” You hear a loud voice shout and turn your head, spotting Finnick approaching in a getup that is so revealing you have to laugh. “Don’t you two look absolutely terrifying. Is that real gold?”

“I think you left most of your costume in your room.” You shoot back, grinning despite yourself. Finnick Odair—God bless him—is one of Nikolai and yourselves closest friends. You adore him endlessly and you know he feels the same way. “Think they’re trying to get you completely naked this year?”

His eyebrows furrow in faux confusion and you feel Nikolai’s chuckle against your back. Finnick turns around in a small circle, hand shading his brow like he’s looking for something.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Halo.” He starts and the nickname makes you grin. “It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.” 'Halo', a reference to the way the Capitol began to call you their 'angel' after you won.

You tilt your head.

"No it isn't." You say, but the truth makes you tense.

No it isn't.

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #the hunger games #catching fire #katniss and peeta #wattpad #finnick odair

[90minsofscreentime]

JEMMM!! I'M DOING THE STARKER BINGO TOO!! 😆😆 i can't wait to see your card and what you come up with! are you getting sfw or nsfw or both? 👀

YAAaYYY MARSHA 😍😍🥰💖 I can’t wait to see your card either!!

I chose both sfw and nsfw~~ 😌😏

And l’m probably going to do a mix of art and fic writing too~~ ☺️😌✨

Love ya Marsha~ looking forward to your works!! 💖🌺

#starker community #ironspider #starker #starker fandom #spideriron #marsha my beloved #Jem’s asks #Jem’s responses #sfsummerbingo22 #Jem’s stuff

[alastairstom]

Something I think that makes TLH stand out is how relatable the characters' traumas are. In most of the series, the characters have by and large suffered some massive supernatural trauma- Will's fake curse, Jem's yin fen addiction, Emma's parents being killed by demons, Julian's dad being Endarkened. But the TLH squad contends with issues that are very real, that you or a friend may have coped with before. Alastair deals with an abusive alcoholic father and a toxic ex; Cordelia has massive golden child syndrome. Grace is essentially a glorified sex slave undergoing physical abuse. Thomas is realistically grieving for his sister. Even Matthew, the most "supernaturally" traumatized of all the characters with the events of CLS, had pre-existing mental illness and the trauma of parentification. This is magnified even more by the fact that Cassie made TLH more character-driven than past series and actually did a pretty decent job of delving into most characters' underlying trauma responses on-page. Combine this with the fact that every member the TLH group responds to their trauma in realistic ways, and it's no wonder that the TLH stands out as feeling uniquely real.

#tlh #the last hours #alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #grace blackthorn #thomas lightwood #matthew fairchild

[blueberryaesthetics]

61%. Describe a scenario that has impacted your character and caused them extreme happiness.

Jem isn't young, but he's well aware that he has centuries left to live. Sometimes waiting out the next day, counting down exactly how many hours you've lived can get...tedious. The only goal he's got is to find out how long he can live before he dies of old age, peacefully and wrinkled like a tiny little prune. His words. Beginning to enjoy his time with Morgane, to properly live again and not just be alive, is bringing him some genuinely wonderful amounts of joy.

#[ask responses] #[screenshots] #[muse: jem]

[partywithponies]

I'm becoming a lesbian Hetty Feather truther.

She only has two male love interests across all the books: her literal brother, and the first boy who was ever nice to her without being one of her brothers. Other than that she shows zero interest in any men ever, even ones everyone else finds attractive. She has nothing but either dislike or complete indifference for literally every male she meets past the age of 14. And she NEVER gushes about or acts desperate for attention from Jem or Bertie the way she does Marina Royal.

In fact, Jacky specifically wrote in Bertie getting annoyed and jealous by Hetty spending so much time with Miss Royal and talking about her constantly when she is with Bertie. She LITERALLY wrote in Bertie telling Hetty that Miss Royal has never shown any interest in marrying or settling down with a man, and Hetty happily saying "How marvellous!" in response. TO BERTIE'S FACE

Plus even before she joined the music hall, while our girl Hetty was displaying complete indifference to every man or boy, she was repeatedly forming deep intense emotional bonds with girls left right and centre. She literally shared a bed with Freda for a while, and talked about missing that for like a year afterward.

PLUS we all know Hetty is basically Jacky's wish fulfillment mary sue self insert by this point, and what's Jacky? Super gay.

#Jacqueline Wilson #hetty feather #the hetty feather literary universe #the increasingly inaccurately named hetty feather trilogy

[thebookwassomuchbetter]

After reading Kit's letter to Jace, all I can think about...

Jem to Emma and Julian: Ah, Cirenworth doesn't have ghosts! It's always been maintained and the owners dealt with any ghosts responsibly :)

Kit, mouthing to Smeg the Fridge Ghost floating in front of them about to go full poltergeist: don't you fucking dare

Alternatively:

Kit: I'm gonna tell him.

Tessa: don't you fucking dare.

#they refuse to burst Jem's bubble #the shadowhunter chronicles #secrets of blackthorn hall #queen of air and darkness

[esthermitchell-author]

So I've been scribbling scenes for my next fanfic, which will give Aziraphale a chance to dust off his sleuthing skills, and take another peek into Crowley's history as a spy... This one's going to be entitled "Trust Fall" and picks up after a puzzling event (dare I say... a "Clue"? lol) near the end of my fanfic novel "Born of Starlight"... Anyway, this is what I just scribbled down about ten minutes ago for the opener... Let me know what you think! 😊

From the Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell

January 2, 2032

Dear Diary,

This morning, with equal parts dread, curiosity, and excitement, Crowley, Jemima, and I set out by train for Edinburgh, in response to a peculiar missive we received back at Christmas. At this point in our journey, there is still no telling why young Elspeth's descendants would have cause to reach out to whom they believe are likewise the descendants of the two "doctors" Elspeth had chance to encounter in the graveyard that fateful night in 1827.

I wish to believe their intentions are perhaps merely curiosity. However, my darling husband is of a more suspicious nature than I, and is insisting we keep our daughter very close until we know exactly what the MacKinnon family are about...

"Stop shaking your head at me like that, Anthony," Aziraphale instructed with a huffed out sigh as he closed the journal and tucked both it and his pen away in the valise beside himself before looking across the space between the facing seats to where Crowley reclined against the train wall -- having lifted the armrest between seats so his long legs stretched along the seats -- with their six-year-old daughter sprawled against him, content to nap away the rest of the trip since the newness wore off shortly after lunchtime.

Crowley tipped his shades down his nose enough his golden eyes gleamed in the light from the setting sun and sent him a fond smirk as he teased, "I will as long as you don't write in that bloody journal for the rest of the trip. It's not like you gotta worry about someone trying to erase your memories anymore, angel. You're the blessed Supreme Archangel of Heaven. 'Sides, you know I'd never let anyone close enough to try."

A tender smile danced at the angel's lips as his gaze drifted to Jem, her little self a lanky splash of lavender outfit, pale skin, and strawberry-blonde curls against the stark black of Crowley's outfit, and yet no creature in all of Creation was as beloved as that one little half-angel, half-demon entity. Worry tugged at Aziraphale, and he turned his attention back to his husband. "Do you think we did the right thing, bringing her along? What if you're right and it's dangerous?"

Crowley's attention turned to Jem, and the demon's expression softened, a gentle smile flickering at his lips as he smoothed his left hand over her curls, the lowering sunlight winking off the gold of his wedding band. "You're assuming she'd have let us leave her behind. Nah, it'll be fine, angel. After what happened at Halifax, I'd be more worried about anyone who underestimates her, if I were you."

That was a reminder Aziraphale could have done without.

#good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #azicrow #ineffable spouses #fanfic #jemima crowley-fell #gomens #gomens fandom #gomens fanfic #go fanfic #go fandom