#fic and words today

[onthewaytosomewhere]

seven sentence sunday oh and 20k words worth of fic i guess

look at me actually counting my sentences on a sunday - but that's prolly cuz i also come bearing a fairytale - finally completed!!! yay!!!

baby just say yes is live for the 2nd day of the tswift eras tour - all 20k+ words of it! 😊

thanks ever so much for the tags @jmagnabo92 @thesleepyskipper @magicandarchery @piratefalls

@firenati0n @anincompletelist oh and @kiwiana-writes stealing ur open tag cuz i think you were interested in the fairytale last month when i started posting about it

so today's words are from said fic, a little snippet from some of the arthur being a good dad to not just his own kids.

Prince Alex is sitting under the tree in the garden where all those years ago he had chased his friend, in kitten form, in an attempt to get him down, when Royal Earl Fox, or Arthur, which it took Alex years to actually call him, finds him. He looks up and attempts a smile, but it must have appeared as sad and forlorn as he feels because the look Arthur gives him makes him want to curl up in his arms and cry. “I figured I might find you here. You’ve not been secretive the last few years about using this place to think. I always assumed that most of that thinking was about my son.” Alex’s attempt at a joking, “Pip?” falls flat. “Laugh it up, mister; we both know it’s my youngest, you think about. I would guess fairly regularly.”

bcuz tumblr is still dumb tags beneath the cut! oh but open tag for anyone who may still wanna do this - i'm kinda late (if i missed that any of y'all have already done this - then i guess i'm just saying hi)

@adreamareads @agame-writes @agostobuwan @bitbybitwrites @dragonflylady77

@duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic

@heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns

@junebugclaremontdiaz @littlemisskittentoes (kitten!henry tag was used!) @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @msmarvelouswinchester

@nocoastposts @priincebutt @sophie1973 @stellarm @suseagull04

@tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @typicalopposite

@wordsofhoneydew @yrsacdfox @captainjunglegym @eusuntgratie @violetbaudelaire-quagmire

@tinyarmedtrex

#seven sentence sunday #baby just say yes #fairytale #firstprince #rwrb fic #no longer a wip!!!!! #yay!!!!! #red white and royal blue #fic and words today #i actually counted on a sunday that's weird

[iamanartichoke]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.

#fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #fandom things #tumblr things #i may have said this at some point #i'm sure i have #but whatever - just in case #i don't say this with the presumption that i'm so amazing and people are clamoring to save my fics #but just if anyone is so inclined that's all #ftr i don't intend on ever removing my fics from ao3 or deleting fandom things from this blog #i've always shared my fandom things with the intent of keeping them shared bc that's the whole point of posting #but the fandom atmosphere and ao3 constantly being under attack who knows what can happen #not that this applies to anyone but should all else fail you can also reach out to me and i will personally give you a copy #at least of fics bc i save everything #not so much the tumblr things but this is a good reminder to myself that i should do that for the things i care about #that i've made or done and only posted here #anyway sorry i have now used up my quota of the putting words into sentences doing for today #i have plans to stare into the void now

[ekingston]

A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.

(also on ao3.)

“I’m telling you, Alex. It’s her.”

At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. It’s the one that’s closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.

“This is the fourth time this week she’s come in here,” Kara says. “You don’t think that’s just a little bit suspicious?”

Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. “Maybe she’s just a big fan of Italian food.”

“No way,” Kara says. “No woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasn’t clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.”

Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. “Tell me again how you’re totally over Siobhan.”

“Oral sex isn’t a moral issue!” Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sister’s phone with practiced ease. “Whatever. Water under the bridge.”

“Uh-huh.”

“A love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one that’s on her credit card,” Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.

“Okay, now you’re being creepy,” Alex says.

“Shut up,” Kara tells her. “I’m texting Winn.”

Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicion—Lena, she’d called herself on the phone; Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercard—twists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.

Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “Let it go, Kara,” she sighs.

“Let it go? Let it—” Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Do you want The Tower to end up like Winn and James’ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by this—this… villain?”

“Of course not.” Alex looks at her like she’s stupid. “But even if this woman is your so-called ‘food influencer’, what do you suggest we do about it? It’s not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.”

Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. “No,” she declares, her tone grim. “But we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.” She blows at a lock of hair that’s fallen in her face. “And also, possibly, credit card fraud.”

Alex narrows her eyes at her. “Kara,” she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if she’s talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. “Let’s just take a breath and think about this for a m—”

Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. She’s close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didn’t know any better.

But Kara knows so much better.

“Let me guess,” she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. “Today you’ll be having the fifth entrée down the list.”

As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Kara’s brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.

But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Kara’s temper revives at the observation that her enemy isn’t as good of an actress as she thinks she is.

“I’ve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,” she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. “I may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.” Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the woman’s voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, “I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about it.”

Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the woman’s perfume. It’s sweet enough to drown out even Alex’s mountain of onions. “I know what you’re doing,” she blusters.

The—frankly unfairly beautiful—soulless grifter stares at her, stricken. “I’m—I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Kara says. “I know who you are.” And then, as if she’s putting down the last card in a game of Uno, “Lena.”

The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. “I see,” she says. She’s rigid, regal; she’s royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. “And am I to assume that’s enough for you to turn down my patronage?”

Kara’s resolve wobbles, too. She hadn’t expected her adversary—Lena, she now knows—to roll over so easily. “Well, yeah, obviously,” she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lena’s deference. “Winn and James are family.”

“Family.” There’s a flicker of wistfulness in Lena’s voice, before confusion colors her features. “So the cold shoulder,” she says. “It’s personal?”

Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesn’t even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. “It was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,” Kara reminds her.

Lena blinks at her. “The establishment just up the road?” She raises a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.”

Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, “They were doing just fine before your slanderous ‘review’ went viral.”

Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Liar.”

Lena’s shocked laughter is bright but brief. It’s the first time Kara has heard her laugh. It’s maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.

“Okay,” Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Who do you think I am, exactly?”

Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. She’d like to wipe that smirk from Lena’s face—manually, if need be—preferably, even, if it means she’d get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumb—

“You,” Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, “are a fraud. You call yourself a ‘mystery food critic’ on TikTok, but really you’re blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.”

“Hey, um.” Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. “So. Winn texted back, and he says—”

But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice a high warble. “That sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if you’d like.”

Kara doesn’t know if she feels more outraged or confused.

…Or possibly some secret third thing.

“So you’re telling me—” Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re saying you’re not her.”

“This, ehm— Tic Tac person?” When Lena’s dark lashes flutter, something in Kara’s chest flutters too. “No.”

Impossible. “Then why have you been in here every day this week?” Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence she’s collected behind it. “When neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?”

Alex rolls her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I’d seen her here before,” she points out. “Also, Winn says—”

“Oh please,” Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than she’d been the last time their eyes met. “As if you could forget a woman as beautiful as—” Kara’s gaze drops to Lena’s mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. “...You.”

Alex stares.

Kara swallows.

Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.

“So you may as well come out with it,” Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. “There’s something you want more than our fettuccine.”

Lena’s cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. “I suppose you’re right about that one, at least,” she admits after a beat.

In Kara’s peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sister’s face has taken on.

“Yeah, well,” she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lena’s confession. “I’m telling you right now that it’s never going to happen.”

Alex clears her throat with startling force. “Winn wants to know,” she says, reading from her phone, “Who’s the hot chick?”

When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. She’s also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.

“So,” Lena drawls. “What you’re saying is you’re not going to give me your number?”

Kara’s throat is suddenly very dry.

“Huh?” she manages, but only just barely.

“I was hoping,” Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, “that you’d maybe like to—”

Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's it’s finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Kara’s never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lena’s forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.

“—fuck,” Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Kara’s hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. “Well,” Lena says. “That’s. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friend—”

They both glance over at Alex, but she’s disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.

“O-kay,” Kara says.

Lena grins. “Okay?”

Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. “I mean,” she amends. “We could, maybe, grab something to eat first?”

Something devious sparks in Lena’s terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Kara’s arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. “I thought you already had.”

And, goodness gracious.

Kara is about to be in so much trouble.

#this prompt is exactly one hundred years old today but HEY LOOK a CLEAN 2000 WORDS #just. clearing the pipes #or whatever it is they say #supercorp fan fiction #supergirl fan fiction #ask meme #thanks for the prompt wilfriede! #i hope it's close enough! #lena luthor #kara danvers #fic by ekingston

[flowercrowngods]

It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.

Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.

It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.

Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.

Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.

It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.

It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.

Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.

They have a couch now. A sofa.

It's so fucking unreal.

He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.

And it feels really fucking big.

At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.

For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.

It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.

And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."

"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.

Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.

Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.

"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.

"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."

Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.

Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.

And it's so unreal.

"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."

Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"Why's it crazy, angel?"

He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.

"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."

Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.

"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."

"We've got a couch now."

Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.

"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."

Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."

And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.

But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.

And they have each other.

They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.

In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.

Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

#steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve x eddie #listen i have a couch now and if you know me you know that i get really fucking emo about the tiniest things #i fixed my lock with graphite btw when i was blackout drunk. it still fills me with so much joy #sorry tag list gang idk what this is but it wanted out #i could write fics/poems/whatever about the most mundane things until the end of my days tbh so today we have: couch #dio words #dio's steddie ramblings #the hurt/comfort is implied like you'll catch it when you reflect on the words but most importantly this is healing. and comfort. and fluff #and so much love and understanding it makes me wanna throw up

[sceletaflores]

thinking about college!patrick bending you over in the bathroom at a house party. 18+

you really should have known better than to let patrick take your hand and drag you away from drunkenly dirty dancing with tashi in the middle of the room.

maybe it was the two vodka redbull’s you slammed— or the joint you and tashi stole from some underclassmen trying to get into your pants— clouding your judgement.

whatever it was allowed you to let the strong grip of patrick’s hand guide you through the dance floor. weaving through crowded bodies gyrating to nelly furtado and up the stairs of whoever’s house this was until patrick pushed open the door to a blessedly empty bathroom, and yanks you inside.

you can’t even start to ask him what the hell you're doing in here before he’s got you pinned up against the door and fucking your mouth with his tongue. your surprised moan is muffled by patrick's mouth as he messily kisses you. he tastes like cheep beer and cigarettes.

"do you have any idea how fucking hot you look?" he grates out against your spit slick lips, grabbing the meat of your hips a little too harshly. "i've been hard for the last thirty minutes because you," he says, tone accusatory like you deliberately caused the hard line of his erection currently pressing into your stomach, "you did this, now you have to deal with it."

well that's how it started. now patricks got you bent over the sink of some randoms bathroom, panties pooled at your ankles and skirt hiked up around your hips as he sinks his unfairly huge cock into your already drenched pussy. "you got this worked up just from my tongue in your mouth? jesus, you're such an easy slut."

he barely gives you any time to get used to the thick stretch of his dick before he's moving, thrusting hard enough to sting your ass with the force of his hips smacking against you. "fuck! patrick— shit!" you moan loudly, grabbing the edge of the sinks counter to brace yourself. patrick's quick to shush you harshly, plastering himself to your back and shoving his thick fingers into your mouth to muffle the too loud keens and squeals he's fucking out of you.

"there's probably a line out there," he rasps wetly into your hair, leaning down to lick the shell of your ear, "you gotta be quiet baby, you don't want everyone out there hearing how much of a slut you are for my cock, do you?"

your cheeks burn fiercely as patrick's hot breath ghosts over your ear, spewing filth as he rams his thick cock into your tight, clenching hole over and over, the rough material of his jeans scratching against you skin since he couldn’t be bothered to do more than unzip and whip his cock out, too eager to get in you. the squelch that his cock makes on each mean stroke into your wet pussy has your ears tingling and your thighs shaking.

there's banging coming from the other side of the door, an angry voice shouting as the knob is jostled harshly, "bro hurry the fuck up!"

patricks pace doesn't even falter. if anything the snap of his hips speeds up. "fuck off!" his rough voice shouts back, hand moving from off your hip and up to your shoulder, letting him force you back to meet his thrusts. you moan around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel the familiar warmth start to grow in the pit of your stomach.

“fuck yeah, i can feel you fucking clenching up on me. you gonna come baby?” he grips your hair is his fist, yanking your head to the side to seal his lips on your neck. “yeah, me too. fucking shit, i’m gonna bust all in your fucking pussy baby. you better come with me. you better fucking come with me.”

that’s all it takes before you’re coming on patrick’s dick. you think you may scream, biting down way too hard on the fingers still in your mouth. patrick’s not far behind, cock giving one final jerk before he’s spraying your insides with his warm come. he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder in an attempt to stifle his groans as he comes. he doesn’t stop thrusting, letting each of you ride out your orgasms. only just as it gets to be a little too much does he stop.

patrick stays with his sweaty forehead pressed to your shoulder for a few beats, breathing heavily as he comes down from draining his balls so deep in your guts. slowly, he raises his head to meet your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. his face is flushed, curly black hair stuck to his face. he looks completely fucked, you both do. your hair is a mess and there’s two angry red hickeys already darkening on your neck.

patrick smirks at the state of both of you reflecting back at him in the mirror, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a stupid smug look on his face. no doubt relishing in the fact that the two of you have to go back down looking like this. he drops your hair from his fist and pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping the drool that leaked out around them as he does.

“i hate you,” you mutter quietly, still trying to catch your breath. patrick snorts out a laugh, wincing when he pulls his sensitive cock out of you. “yeah sure,” he replies, tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping up. he drops to his knees behind you, at first you think he’s going for round two but as you open your mouth to protest he starts pulling your panties up your legs and over your ass.

“you need to wear this dress more often.” he says, planting a sweet kiss on your left ass cheek, well as sweet a kiss he can while still nipping at your soft skin. you don’t respond with words, only an annoyed huff as you drop you skirt back down around your hips.

you just have to hope that it’s long enough to cover the stream of patrick’s come trickling down your thighs.

—————

taglist!

@callsign-artemis @ebodebo @yuenity a

#✧: 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 #natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words #obvi everyone knows what you were doing in that bathroom #but who's gonna call you on it? #art and tashi probably #but you don't care about that #anyways this was really on my mind today #like really on my mind #challengers #challengers x reader #challangers smut #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ

also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!

#ninja showdown #my immortal soul #first ninja x chase young #rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #rc9gn #chase young #xiaolin showdown #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #rc9gn plop plop #well i say smol fic.... but those 4k words felt very long. #i did say i was going to direct my energy into writing >.> and now look at me ive gone insane #no actually dont look at me im just gonna go cry over my 20k words of rough drafts for like dozen ideas that are now going #to haunt my every waking moment like JESUS i woke up today and literally wrote out 1k words of an idea for a modern au for those two TToTT #its literally an au where its a meet cute turned meet violent and first is randy's sorta dad and chase wants to adopt omi #not to mention a different AU where its an epic mystery adventure AAAAAAA someone heeeelppppp meeeee #also. its been a month but im still staring so intently at missadmyre's fic hoping for another crumb. like thank you sm for the food!!!! #ive literally been rereading it several times after i went insane about it on my main blog and im still slurping at it like a starved perso #Ive been collecting my ideas like a dragon but after reading that fic i was like: I WANT TO READ MORE FICS ABOUT THEM #but i dont wanna be a whiny baby&beg others and be annoying about it. So i put on my big person pants and was like f it WE R WRITINg NOW #so i dont care how bad my writing will be. we gonna be balling on those ideas and YES it doesnt make sense im just v rambly rn

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️

#shinji ikari #kaworu nagisa #kawoshin #neon genesis evangelion #campus apocalypse #nge #nge ca #toma draws #kawoshinweek2024 #CAwoshin again! wanted to ensure my favorite niche kawoshin got some representation in the week in case no one else did stuff with them... #which wasn't the case since literally every fill for the spinoffs prompt has been campus apocalypse!!! which i'm overjoyed about 🥺 #my second option for today was finishing a sonicverse kawoshin wip for the free day prompt. but i already included sonic in the week with- #the song lyrics i used for my day 5 piece so i went with this instead #also went with this because. um. my original plan for today was actually. a CA fic for these same prompts set after said sleepover chapter #but i'm neither fast nor confident at writing so i. haven't finished it (i DID get it to almost 1500 words so far though! progress) #so i thought i'd color something i drew while thinking about it :') #i did it while taking a break from my day 5 piece and was pretty loose about it so it's not super polished and i'm not sure how i feel abt- #the colors but! it hits the soft cozy vibe i was going for and that's good enough for me #if i manage to finish the fic within the year i might still include it as a very late week entry... no promises though. we'll see

[kkpwnall]

just a little rain

((edit: now on ao3))

“Alright you little gremlins, pick up is 3:30 sharp. If you’re late, you’re walking home in the rain.” Steve holds his umbrella over the kids’ heads as they pile out of the beamer and under the awning at the entrance to the school.

“Wheeler! Don’t forget your lunch!” He holds the paper bag out, and Mike trudges back, grumbling a ‘thank you’ under his breath that sounds more like ‘fuck you’.

One hand on his hip, he watches until they’re all safe inside, pushing and shoving and cackling way too much for first thing on a Thursday morning. 

He turns back to the beamer, looking to kill time until the store opens at ten. Across the parking lot, Steve spies Eddie still in his van, struggling with his leather jacket like he’s trying to hold it over his head and open the car door at the same time. Steve jogs over with his umbrella held high and taps on the window. Eddie jumps about a mile in the air, but relaxes when he sees Steve grinning at him.

“Can I walk you to class?” Steve teases when he opens the door.

“Ooo only if you’ll carry my books, Stevie,” Eddie snarks back. But Steve just takes the book bag from his hand and slings it over his shoulder. Eddie stares at him, a pretty pink flush brightening his cheeks.

“Can’t let the rain flatten these gorgeous curls.” He wraps one around his finger and tilts his head so he’s smiling at Eddie through his lashes, holding the umbrella over both of them.

Eddie’s frozen, just for a moment, his eyes wide. Then he frees himself from the tangle of his jacket to lean into Steve’s space with a wicked grin. “Better watch out, the girlies are gonna get jealous if they see Steve Harrington trying to make me blush.”

“Good,” Steve leans closer, his voice low and deep in his throat as he gives Eddie his most charming troublemaker smile.

Under the guise of needing to stand close to keep them both covered by the umbrella, Steve puts a hand on the small of Eddie’s back as they walk towards the school. But instead of heading directly for the shelter of the awning, he gently steers them to one of the cramped little alleyways back between buildings. Once they’re out of sight and under cover, he tilts the umbrella to hide them just a little more, and kisses Eddie against the bricks.

He’s unhurried, thorough, as if they have all the time in the world. He’s always wanted to kiss and be kissed in the rain, there’s something so quintessentially romantic about it, hidden away from all the elements of the outside world in their own little bubble. With Eddie. Eddie, who he never wants to stop kissing, who he wants to kiss in every timeless and cliched and sensual way known to man. And then invent a few of their own.

It’s a tricky bit of maneuvering, trying to keep the umbrella up and the rain off and get his hands on as much of Eddie as he can reach. But Eddie’s anything but passive. He pulls Steve in by his ‘stupid polo’, one hand sliding up to the hair at the nape of his neck, tilting his head just so. His other hand tugs at the zipper of Steve’s windbreaker, slipping inside to pull him closer by his waist. A gentle swipe of Steve’s tongue is all it takes for Eddie to whimper into his mouth, a small nothing of a sound that Steve devours.

Now that Steve’s had a taste of early morning Munson, he doesn’t want to stop. The heady mixture of a fresh spritz of old spice filling his nose, the taste of cigarettes and coffee and strawberry pop tarts on his tongue. Steve settles his free hand in the small of Eddie’s back, spread flat against the warm, soft skin under his shirt.

A group of girls rushes past the alley they’re hidden in, talking loudly and giggling. Eddie freezes as they walk past, and Steve takes the opportunity to kiss along his jaw, down his neck. The girls are gone as soon as they appeared, eager to get out of the rain, but Steve doesn’t stop his thorough exploration of every part of Eddie’s neck that makes his breath hitch where Steve’s lips touch. Eddie’s hands grip hard at his shoulders, fingers flexing like he can’t decide whether to pull him closer or push him away.

“Don’t you - ah - have better things to do than - hmm - robbing the cradle?”

Steve laughs into his neck. “You’re older than me, asshole. And the store doesn’t open for another 3 hours, I’ve got nothing but time.”

Eddie’s fingers tangle in Steve’s hair, holding his head to Eddie’s neck as Steve grazes his teeth along the strong, trembling tendon.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re dating a high schooler, sweetheart,” Eddie pants.

“Mmm,” Steve hums, sucking gently at Eddie’s pulse point. He pulls back just enough to look at Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes a little dazed. “You’re right, we should fix that. What do you say, my place, six o’clock? We can…” his eyes travel back down to Eddie’s swollen lips, “study.”

Eddie laughs against Steve’s lips as he swoops in for another kiss. Bright and carefree and safe under the privacy of the downpour and the umbrella. Steve deepens the kiss, pulling out all the stops to make Eddie swoon. Little nips and licks and sucks on his lips, gently laving and massaging and soothing with his tongue. Pushing Eddie against the wall with his hips. Rocking slowly against him.

The warning bell rings and Steve finally steps away, grinning. “Don’t want to be late for class, Eds.”

“God you’re the worst,” Eddie says breathlessly, but he pulls Steve toward him again by his jacket.

One of Eddie’s hands falls to his belt, pulling him closer. Steve slips his free hand into Eddie’s back pocket as Eddie bites at his lower lip. He captures Steve’s gasp in his open mouth, swiping his tongue against Steve’s with a gentle firm pressure.

It’s over all too soon when Steve nearly overbalances and stumbles from the sudden lightness on his shoulder. Eddie grins at him, shouldering his heavy book bag, and looking far too pleased with himself.

Steve pulls him in for one last kiss, still holding the umbrella to shield them from the rain and prying eyes. It’s a soft, almost chaste kiss. ‘Good morning’ and ‘I missed you’ and ‘I love you’ in the tender press of his lips. He cups Eddie’s cheek with his free hand, relishing the way Eddie relaxes against him, tilting his cheek into Steve’s palm with a sigh.

“Have a good day at class, love,” Steve says with a wink.

Eddie reaches out to straighten Steve’s windbreaker, zipping it back up and pressing both hands to his chest. He ducks his chin and looks up at Steve. His wide, innocent eyes immediately betrayed by the mischief in his sly grin. “Pick me up at six?”

*title from ‘the rain song’ by led zeppelin

#steddie #steve x eddie #steveddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things steve #stranger things eddie #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things season 4 #writing #kk writes #that spell of finish your wip went awry and instead conjured 1100 words of flirting and making out #look they weren’t kissing fast enough in my other wips i had to do something #can you tell it’s been raining all day where i live? #i wrote this AND applied for jobs today so yknow #please clap #is this a bad time to be posting this #probably #idgaf it needs to be set free

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon💖

don't have a lot of new stuff for the fics i've been sharing lately, so today smth different - coffee shop au is back! progress is constantly being made (slowly, but still lol) - so here's a lil buckley siblings moment (I haven't shared a buck and eddie moment in a minute lmao need to fix that soon haha)

prev snippet

___

“What?” he rolls his eyes.

“You’re crushing so hard.” she teases, and he feels his cheeks heat up.

“Shut up.” Buck grumbles, as he grabs a cloth to wipe down the counter just to have something to do. “Not like it matters anyway, he has someone.”

“Really?” Maddie frowns, tilts her head. “Did he tell you that?”

“Not in so many words.” 

“So how do you know?” she prods.

“He ordered for two people.” he says, and only when Maddie laughs, he realizes how stupid and presumptive that is. It could be for anyone, even for himself. Hell, Buck would often order something for himself and for Maddie. Didn’t Eddie say he had an abuela and a tia here? “Shut up, I know.” he groans and covers his face with his hands – and the dirty cloth that’s still in his hand.

“Ew, gross.” Maddie chuckles and pries the cloth out of his hand, dumping it on the counter. “You can be so dense sometimes.” she shakes her head. “When Eddie saw you today, his face literally lit up. He’s been waiting for you to get him his coffee, even though I could’ve done it. If you ask me, he’s crushing, too.”

“Good thing no one asked you.” Buck mutters, and Maddie playfully swats at his arm. “Ow!”

“Just ask him out, Buck, what’s the worst that could happen?” Maddie asks, before turning away just as the door opens and a customer walks in.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @transbuck @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @giddyupbuck

#tease tidbit tuesday #wip wednesday #buddie coffee shop au #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #i so need to get on with it bc buck's about to meet chris and i can't wait to write that #and also im so excited to get to the madney part of it #had a day off but didn't write a word today lol #but got a new tattoo and read like a hundred pages of the 1st bridgerton book while my mom was getting her tattoo #so overall a productive day haha #last few snippets were very 'every dynamic but buddie' but i'll get back to them lol

[aimbutmiss]

The day started like any other normal day. And it was, to Mihawk at least.

Yes, it was his birthday, but he never really cared for the occasion. Was he grateful for the life he was given? Of course he was. But he never saw the point in celebrating. He remembered the day when Shanks had showed up out of nowhere, ten years or so ago. He was overjoyed to see the man, hands itching to reach for Yoru, but the man stopped him with a whine.

"Nooooo, I come in peace! We can't fight, not today of all days!"

He held up the bottle in his hand with a bright smile. "We're gonna party until the sun goes down and comes back up!"

A frown pulled down on Mihawk's face, who was not quite understanding the situation. "What are you talking about?"

Shanks' smile quickly dropped too. "Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday."

Ah, right. So that's what this was about. The man had told him his date of birth some time ago, and in his surprise and perhaps slight tipsiness, he had admitted that they shared the same birthday. In hindsight, he should have known the red head would pull something like this. It was definitely in character. He sighed in frustration.

"I'm not quite the type to celebrate. You know I don't like to party like you folk."

"That's nonsense!" Shanks walked up to him and slapped a hand on his back, strong enough to send a normal man flying. But of course, Mihawk didn't move an inch. "Parties are like, the best part of being a pirate! And even if I respect your mysterious and lonely guy schtick, it's your damn birthday! You can make an exception for one day of the year."

He looked up, reminiscing about the past. "The captain was very firm about that. He would throw me and Buggy the most extravagant parties. He never once forgot; can you believe that?"

The captain he was talking about was indeed the King of the Pirates, Gold Roger. It had shocked Mihawk at first, learning about Shanks’ past. But the more he got to know the man, the more it made sense. A man of his caliber couldn’t have come from anything else. Shanks was a very talkative drunkard, so Mihawk was used to listening to stories about that time of his life. And frankly, he quite enjoyed it. These men in his stories and the stuff they went through were like straight out of legends... He gave a small smile to the excited man in front of him. "I guess I could indulge you just this once, but only because it's your birthday too."

He snapped out of the memories and slowly got out of bed, having had enough nostalgia to last him the day. But he was stopped by a floating hand pulling on his night gown.

"Stay."

Mihawk looked to the source of the muffled protest, which happened to be the blue mess in his bed. "Let go, Buggy."

"Nooooooo..."

He sighed as he sat back down on the bed, fingers immediately going for the soft blue locks. An approving hum came from the clown as he brushed through his hair with his long fingers.

This sleepy man, with whom he shared a bed, was one of those from Shanks’ stories. Except he was nothing like them. He wasn’t brave and fearless like in the stories, he was weak. But he knew exactly what he was and what he was capable of, and Mihawk loved him for that. He was charming beyond words, and a little stupid, but Mihawk was into that, as embarrassing as it was.

“Get back into bed and get your birthday cuddles.”

Mihawk chuckled at his partner. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

He got up to leave for the bathroom. “Do you know where Crocodile went?”

“Nope! How should I know?” Buggy answered way too quickly, which made the swordsman’s brows furrow.

“Hm. He’s probably in his office like usual.”

“Yes! That’s it.” Buggy exclaimed in triumph, for what he didn’t know. “He’s such a workaholic.”

“Indeed.” He replied nonchalantly as he reached for his razor.

“Wait!” Buggy ran out of bed to his side with a smile. “Let me do that for you.”

Mihawk stared at him with a raised brow. “You want to help me shave? For what reason exactly?”

“It’ll be relaxing! I’m good with my hands, you know.” Buggy wiggled his brows suggestively, which made his lips curve just the slightest bit. The clown could be funny sometimes, mostly when he wasn’t trying. Oh, how he loved this silly man.

“You literally have no reason to do this.”

Buggy sighed in frustration. “I’m just trying to pamper you, birthday boy. Take it or leave it.”

Mihawk thought about it for a second, and reluctantly gave the razor to the clown. “You better not mess this up. I have a very particular- “

“I’m aware, dear. Just trust me.”

He gently held his face and got to work, carving out the intricate design with capable movements. After he was done, he wiped his face with a fresh towel and gave him a kiss on the cheek to seal the deal.

“Was that a part of the service?” Mihawk jokingly asked.

“Only for you, handsome.”

Mihawk was never one for being coddled, always believing that being spoiled was being looked down upon. He didn’t need special attention and privilege to make it in life. But this, this he could get used to.

He pulled Buggy into a kiss that started innocent, but quickly grew more desperate. He was sneaking his hands under Buggy’s polka dot pyjama shirt when the man pushed him away.

“Nuh uh.”

“Nuh uh?” Mihawk stared at his boyfriend in bewilderment.

“Not now. I’ll give your birthday gift at night.”

Mihawk frowned. “It’s my birthday now too. What difference does it make?”

“God, you’re impatient. Night. No negotiating.”

Mihawk pursed his lips and didn’t protest. He was not happy, though.

Buggy stayed with him throughout the day, keeping him company and making sure he stayed away from the beach.

Yes, Mihawk could tell. But to be fair, Buggy wasn’t exactly being subtle. But he didn’t say a word, indulging in whatever the man was planning.

A surprise party, perhaps? God, he really hoped it wasn’t that. Crowds and being the center of attention didn’t agree with his constitution.

And where was his other partner (both in romantic and business contexts), Crocodile? He wasn’t in his office like he initially assumed. He was sure Buggy knew where the man was but refrained from asking questions. He was quite sure the two situations were somehow connected.

That in itself was quite ridiculous to think about. Crocodile didn’t seem like the type of man to care about birthdays either, like himself. Maybe Buggy had somehow convinced him? It all seemed very unnecessary. He knew the clown had good intentions, but he would have been fine if no one acknowledged his birthday at all. It wasn’t of importance to him, simple as that.

Then why was this bothering him so much? He tried to focus on Buggy’s rambling but that feeling did not leave.

Why did it feel so wrong to be celebrated just for existing? To be loved and cared for?

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t unhappy with it. Quite the opposite actually. But it just felt so… foreign. He needed time to adjust, to make his peace with it.

He thought he had gotten over this particular problem after he formed a relationship with his two business partners. It had taken a lot out of him to simply let them in, to feel comfortable in their presence, to not fret from every touch… And even though he trusted them completely, here he was doubting his place.

It just didn’t make sense. They were wasting their time and effort for an inconsequential event that would pass by, leaving nothing changed. So, what if he got a year older? What did that change? Why did they care so much about something he himself didn’t care for? To show their love? But Mihawk already knew they loved him.

“Earth to Mihawk, hello?”

Mihawk snapped out of his thoughts, staring at Buggy’s concerned eyes. “Hm? Sorry, I got lost in thoughts. You were saying?”

“I was saying I want to walk along the beach… You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. I’m alright, just a bit sluggish today. And sure, we can go for a stroll.”

He walked hand in hand with Buggy, trying to ease his mind and keep small talk going. He wasn’t big on physical touch, but he really appreciated the warmth of Buggy’s hand then. The clown always had a way of comforting him without trying. Mihawk stopped walking when he saw the dinner table placed on the beach. That certainly wasn’t there before. It was adorned with red roses and lit candles, setting a romantic atmosphere. Crocodile was standing beside the table, looking at his pocket watch.

“You’re late.”

“I know! I got lost in my speaking, and hawk eyes didn’t try to stop me so I lost track of time…”

“You and your big mouth… I guess it’s alright, we didn’t miss the sunset.”

Crocodile walked up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and sharing a chaste kiss.

“Happy birthday, hawk eyes.”

“Thank you.” Mihawk broke the eye contact as he felt his cheeks get hotter.

Crocodile gave a sly smirk. “Someone’s being bashful.”

“Well, I didn’t expect… this. I was convinced you were throwing me a party.”

Buggy frowned at the thought. “Of course not! That would make you uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? That’s the last thing I would want on your birthday. A private dinner on the other hand…”

“Is much more your style, is it not?” Crocodile completed Buggy’s sentence.

Mihawk was the luckiest man alive. He gave his lovers a small smile. “Yes, indeed it is. You are too thoughtful.”

“It’s literally the bare minimum but okay.”

“I can’t believe this, but I agree with the clown. What kind of partners would we be if we didn’t know your preferences?”

Mihawk sat on the chair the taller man pulled out for him as Buggy poured him a glass of wine, one of his favorites that happened to be quite expensive.

“I just don’t quite get what’s so important about this day, or what you would go through all this trouble for.”

Crocodile and Buggy shared a glance and turned to him with sad eyes.

“Because it’s the day you came into this world, and therefore to our lives? Because we love you?”

“Indeed. I don’t see what’s so confusing about us wanting to cherish the man we love, to show him how much he means to us. Is that a problem?”

Mihawk stared at the two in astonishment and eventually, a big smile stretched across his lips. “No, not at all.”

The swordsman had a lot to learn about love, about being loved, but he had two perfect partners to help him through the steps. He could get used to celebrating his birthday if it meant he got to share it with the people he loved. Maybe that’s what he had been missing all these years to give this day a meaning. Company.

And after dinner, Buggy didn’t forget about his promise from the morning. Easy to say Mihawk went to sleep a very tired but satisfied man.

#not too happy with this but I'm too sleepy to care #I was gonna make this more angsty but I used all that energy on my shuggy post so mihawk gets to be happy today :) #it's kinda funny to think this could be happening consecutively with the shuggy post #mihawk learning to accept love on his birthday while shanks gets used to the lack of it #me? picking favourites? haha no way #anyways happy birthday mihawk!! #one piece #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #cross guild #cross guild polycule #bughawk #red haired shanks #this is almost 2k words btw!! #maybe I'll try to improve it a bit tomorrow and post it as a fic on ao3 who knows

[foxspritez]

not enough mermaid aus in this society

#SOCIETYYYYY #thought it would be funny if he said the skyrim quote #sampo’s earring is supposed to be one of those swirly shells idk they’re pretty #if someone drew sampard mermaids already send it to me immediately #sampard #gepard x sampo #honkai star rail #sampo koski #gepard landau #u know what would be sooo cute… u should ask me about this au #but in short prince gepard gets rescued by mermaid sampo and they’re in love #sampard loves each other btw canon real #the fic art i’ve had in my procreate drafts for months vs this i did after class today #it’ll get done eventually… mark my words… #no more tags im shutting up #mermaid au #mermaid sampo

[denpa-dere]

prompt 10 for luci!!!

Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer

Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking

___

Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always. 

But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.

The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him. 

Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell. 

You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard. 

You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things. 

"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape. 

You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you. 

You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you. 

"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you. 

"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."

He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”

You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”

You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.

“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.”

Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.

Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.

“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.

“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”

Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.

“It means everything to me,” You choked out.

He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”

You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”

“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

#obey me fic #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #writing prompts #denpa's transmissions #drabble: writes 900+ words #dis one hit good because im feeling kinda insecure today ty anon :3 hope you like it

[flowercrowngods]

✨🤍 some steddie softness for @thefreakandthehair's birthday, i hope it's the very best so far! 🤍✨(please please your day comes first, read this whenever you have time and space to breathe 🤍)

Eddie is not a religious man — far from it, actually. But there are a few things that make him believe in higher powers. In angels. In destiny and luck and a love so strong it could conquer everything. 

This very moment is one of them. 

Stevie, soft and sleepy beside him in the back of the car as Nancy is driving, the dim light of the passing street lamps painting his face in hues of gold like the light itself favours Steve Harrington, caressing his features with the softest of shadows. 

He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Perfectly angelic with his eyes closed, his whole body turned towards Eddie in the warmth of the car.

It takes Eddie’s breath away, his heart taking up space where before there were his lungs and ribcage, growing in size until he feels like he is about to burst. And even then he keeps looking, staring at that pretty face that looks so at peace with the whole world right now. Eddie has never seen Steve like this, but now he understands why people start wars. Why people defy gods and death itself to be with their one true love. Why Orpheus looked back. 

He understands. Because Steve, his Stevie, warm and safe and perfectly fine in the backseat of a car? That is everything. He doesn’t even need to kiss or touch so long as he just gets to look. And be. Oh, to be at the same time that Steve is. 

That might just be life’s greatest gift to him. 

A tiny sigh falls from Steve’s lips and Eddie really, really might be about to burst. 

“Hey, angel,” he whispers, because moments like this aren’t made for anything but hushed words, their truths too heavy, too sincere for the world to hear and keep on spinning. He doesn’t need the world to spin as long as there is Steve. 

“Hi,” Steve whispers back, his eyes still closed but the smile lighting up, luring Eddie in like he is but a moth drawn to the flame. 

Eddie leans in and rests his forehead against Steve’s, his hand coming up to cradle a light-kissed cheek. Steve leans into it, following Eddie’s hand like maybe they are twin stars pulling each other closer until there will be an explosion of light and creation. Steve nuzzles against his palm and leans further into Eddie’s body until they share the same breath — but still it’s not enough. 

Eddie wants to say so many things now that their hands are entangled, their soft exhales mixing. But after a while he notices that Steve is humming before gently singing along to the song coming quietly from the speakers. 

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze. Take your time, make it slow. Andante, Andante. Just let the feeling grow.”

Eddie knows the song, recognises it instantly, and his breath gets stuck in his throat once more. Because he has a secret. He loves it. He has imagined for the longest time that one day, someone would make it his song. Sing it for him, to him. 

He’s never told anyone because he has a reputation to uphold and more than enough metal music to listen to, but of course Steve wouldn’t care about his secrets being secret, and just oh so casually make his deepest, most private of dreams come true. 

He’s an angel, that one. A hero. Myths and fairy tales should be woven around that heart of his, folklore speaking of his name until history itself wouldn’t dare to forget. No one can convince Eddie otherwise. Not in that moment, not with Steve singing so quietly, so gently, so adoringly. 

I think I love you. I think I can’t ever stop, not when I’ve seen you like this. Not when you’ve just shown me what life can be about, what it should be about. Gods, I love you and love you and love you. 

That’s what he wants to say. 

But all that comes out is a marvelled, “Shit, Stevie.”

It has the desired effect of a huffed breath, an even wider smile, and Steve cuddling further into Eddie’s side, eyes still closed. Eddie brushes a kiss to Steve’s forehead and feels like maybe his love can make it into the fairy tale, too. 

It will. Oh, it will, when Steve finally lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder and looks at him through hooded eyes, all soft and sleepy and safe. A moment passes like this and Eddie can’t breathe, maybe he can never breathe again — but it only lasts until Steve slowly, so very slowly begins to lean in to claim Eddie’s lips with a kiss so gentle it could bring him back from the dead. 

Eddie kisses Steve back just as slowly, because in moments like this there is no rush, no hurry. There’s only them, there’s only this. Only a kiss until there is another. 

And with Steve, there is always another. 

Nancy smiles as she is taking the long way to Steve’s house, rounding Loch Nora twice because she knows how comfy Steve gets in cars at night when he doesn’t have to drive and there is soft music playing. 

Eddie kisses her goodbye on the forehead, fully aware of what she’s done. He doesn't tell her about the sun and the myths and all the wars he would start for Steve.

Nights like this are not meant for telling anyone about them. They can hardly be believed as it is. They can only be lived, hand in loving hand.

#steddie fic #steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #dio words #hi lex happy birthday i hope you like this bit of incoherent softness i hope you like the sleepy feeling in the back of a car at night #when all the lights go whoosh you know?? with some music? idkidk but writing this was fun anyway :D #also because sincerity is for tumblr tags let me just say thanks again for being in my dms sometimes and listening to my whumpy rambles #here you have some fluff to make up for it :D no but seriously you deserve nice things so i'm happy to see you getting some today 🤍

[babblingeccentric]

Kinktober 2: Threesome, Zoro x Reader x Law

Contains: threesome, exhibitionism, reader described as having a "cunt", fake reluctant law, fingering, exactly 100 words

“Well? Are you gonna?” Zoro hooks your knees over his thighs, showing off your dripping center as you moan.

Law stands still and silent on the other side of the mats. 

Zoro spreads your lower lips with his fat fingers, your slick glistening in the low emergency lighting of the submarine. You squirm and the tip of Zoro’s finger slips into you revealing a glimpse of the sweet pink inside of your cunt and Law can’t take it anymore. 

“If this has annoying consequences you’re dealing with it.” He grumbles as he kneels and slips two long tattooed fingers inside

Read about my kinktober prompts and rules for suggesting pairings here

#zoro x reader x law #roronoa zoro x reader x trafalgar law #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law x reader #reader insert #x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #fic #mine #my writing #bringing back the old school meaning of drabble which is fic that is exactly 100 words #couldn't get this to come out so i just went for that and im satisfied with getting exactly 100 #plus the other one i did today came out really well so im not too mad #in and ideal world this would be longer but in an ideal world i can just beam a story from my mind onto the page #ANYWAY #hope yall enjoy #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #im still taking suggestions btw

[one-flower-one-sword]

well I know what you want from me you want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception setting you free won't you come and dance in the dark with me? show me what you are, I am desperate to know nobody better than the perfect enemy and I know what you want from me you want the same as me my redemption, eternal ascension setting me free

for @bladesmercy's fic The Fear of Falling Stars

#my art #ff7 #sefikura #sephiroth #cloud strife #please click on the art tumblr lowers the quality so much #me ten billion times while working on it: oh i can't draw this. oh no i fucked it up #also i love snakes but man fuck them scales #in all honesty though i poured give or take 14 hours into this and enjoyed every moment #i hadn't even attempted to draw anything like this in like 20 years i'd thought i'd lost all my skill #oh yeah lyrics are from ascensionism by sleep token #and be sure to check out the fic it's among the most incredible i've ever read!!!! #I've read my share of amazing fics but rarely ever has one had such a chokehold on me #it's been helping me and inspiring me so much i don't even have the words #anyway this art has been sitting in my drafts for like #a week #gonna be brave today and post it

[dipplinduo]

Fun fact about me: April 18th is my birthday! :)

And part of what I wanted to do to celebrate this year was to give back. Introducing * ~ a dipplinshipping birthday oneshot ~ * :

Rating: T

Summary:

Today was Kieran's birthday, but it was the last thing that mattered to him. In fact, he vowed it would never matter to him again. Instead, he would focus on things that would keep him strong: his battling, his strategizing, and his crown as the Blueberry Champion. His sister and the Elite Four won't stop asking him random questions, though, and if anyone brings up Juliana any more than they already have since she arrived as an exchange student, he's seriously going to lose it. But...why can't he stop thinking about her? And why is everyone acting so suspicious?!

A bittersweet birthday celebration fic for anyone who's had complicated feelings about their birthday. <3

Take this as a thank you to all of those who have followed my work and/or my Tumblr blog. I wouldn't have imagined having the support of this wonderful community on my last birthday, and I can't even begin to describe how encouraged and inspired I have felt to write since finding you guys. I have never written this much for this long, consistently, and your constant feedback and comments seriously brighten my day more than Juliana brightens up Kieran, LOL. Hope you enjoy this! <333

(And yeah, this fic is the "event based idea" that this poll was about. I thought it was so funny that some of you thought it was gonna be some devastating angst LMAOOOO. That's for after TTPD releases, tysm for the bday gift Taylor.)

#I legit was gonna go a bit of a wholesome route for S&S D but y'all said “nah” so I said “bet” and wrote Chapter 18™ instead #anyways #on a real note #seriously tysm for all the love & kind words & support #I hope this brings you some of the happiness you all constantly bring me #<3333 #my fics #dipplinshipping #kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana pokemon #juliana x kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana #juliana pokemon #juliana x kieran #I had fun with some references see if you can spot 'em all #now Im gonna run to bed #I have a busy day ahead of meeee #bye for now!! <3 #also yes I did lowkey contemplate teal mask Kieran instead #but my bias is allowed for today LMAO #what can I say #indigo disk Kieran is just elite #plus its fun to have the rest of the blueberry squad there #oKAY NOW IM SIGNING OFF BYEEEE #wouldnt be a dipplinduo post without me going back to edit tags #catch me editing typos later too lmfao #yes TTPD release technically falls on my bday in the time zone im currently in #will never ever shut up about that