#puppy writes things

[puppywritesthings]

Suddenly My Life Doesn’t Seem Such A Waste (Camsco)

camsco movie night!

a/n:  hey y'all. <3 i get to be a musical and film nerd on main!moulin rouge has become a minor hyperfixation, and it fits because of the moulin ru acting challenge. here's some domestic fluff with like a twinge of feelings. as per usual, bosco uses she/they pronouns.title comes from "come what may" from moulin rouge.

ao3 link

After subjecting her to an Alien and Aliens double feature, Bosco figured it was time to let Camden decide the movie for movie night. As soon as she showed the cover of Moulin Rouge!, they couldn't help but giggle a little bit. It was a complete 180 from anything they've ever suggested. "I somehow knew you were gonna choose that one." They teased. "Might as well have gotten whiplash just from seeing the box art alone."

"Don't say that." She knew the camera could get a bit crazy -- this was the director's bread and butter after all --, but she wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. "Have... you seen this before?" Camden opened the DVD case and leaned over, putting it in the machine.

"I've seen it like... once or twice...” Bosco leaned over the couch, getting a slightly better view of Camden’s… assets. “Wait, isn't this an incel movie?"

"What? No!" The redhead stood up and popped the cover shut for added emphasis. "This is a story about love and learning to love and be loved in return! Despite class and status, love survives!"

Yeah, but Satine doesn't, Bosco almost said but held their tongue. "I tease, but I think I’m still onto something.  I mean, Satine has to choose between a dogged nice guy and a duke who we're supposed to hate, making the first guy look better by comparison.”

“It’s art… and music… and I guess I can see where you’re coming from. The Duke is technically an incel if you think about it like that.” Camden squirmed a bit, the slang feeling foreign on her tongue. “I don’t exactly know where you’re going with Christian though…”

“Maybe it’s just me,” They paused, “I love Ewan McGregor, but his character here is giving me too much… All that utter devotion – and I get it, Nicole Kidman’s hot as fuck in that movie -- just… irks me.”

“Or maybe you’re just allergic to affection.” Camden teased back. “I’m sorry. Continue.”

“Thank you. He may be all soft and naïve but has a more subdued version of that… ‘if I can’t have you no one else can’ mentality towards her. He and the Duke are like two sides of a similar coin.”

“I don’t know, maybe…”

“Camden, he called her a whore –granted, he’s not wrong–, but Satine has to apologize to him?! That’s just wrong!”

“He had no choice! If he showed his love, he would be dead, so he had to treat Satine like everyone else in her life treated her.”

“Personally, if I were her, I’d ditch both of them.”

“And do what?”

“Work on myself maybe?” Bosco shrugged their shoulders. “I don’t know. Get a doctor? Belting all those nights a week can’t do well on your lungs. Especially if they’re brimming with consumption.”

“To be fair, she didn’t know she had it yet.”

“She should have checked herself out when she started fainting and coughing up blood! That’s kind of a sign of  not doing okay, if anything!”

Camden nodded her head, “Would you like to start now or are we just going to keep arguing?”

They sunk into the couch, snuggling next to Camden and prompting her to press play. The 20th Century Fox theme swelled to life, transitioning into the film’s proper overture. “It’s a change of pace to see an overture in a movie musical,” Camden thought out loud. “At least, a modern one. Modern enough…”

Bosco couldn’t help but laugh. How were they so lucky to end up with someone so passionate, someone with a good taste in movies? The more they watched, the more they remembered how batshit yet cliche the plot was. All of that could be excused if there were enough pretty people on the screen. Maybe she’d show her Showgirls next… If their relationship got that far, at least.

“Man, if I knew about this earlier, I would have made this my whole personality.” Bosco mused, leaning into Camden’s lap and nuzzling into her like a cat. “And then there would have maybe been some backlash. I bet the youth ministers would have eaten this shit UP!”

“Call me dumb, but I don’t see how it could be a metaphor… for Christianity, I mean.”

"Cam," They deadpanned. "Their names are Christian and Satine. That couldn't have been a coincidence. Pure, upstanding Christian… gets tempted by nightlife and a hot woman with the promise of premarital sex and hedonism which end up killing her at the end of the day. All the while, he tries to convert her to the one true path of—” Bosco stopped herself, unsure of where to finish the parallel. “love and Jesus or something.”

“You’re making sense. Don’t worry.” Camden reassured them, the way she always did.

“Oh, I don’t know. Now that I think about it, it sounds like a stretch.”

“There could be something though…” The redhead proposed. She wasn’t very religious, being mainly in the Christmas and Easter crowd before meeting Bosco. They did take her to an Ash Wednesday service once just to show her what mass was like, so she had a vague idea of some of the doctrine. “Something about redemptive love and… loving regardless of background.”

“But all that redemptive love means nothing if she still dies at the end!” They sat up and placed a pillow between the two of them.

There was something a character said near the end that really got Bosco’s attention, and they were already on the verge of tears.

“We’re creatures of the underworld,” Zidler told Satine. “We can’t afford to love.”

She knew exactly why that spoke to them. They always considered themself to be the villain, the outcast, the demon. It was a badge they wore with pride. She showed less skin so people would know she had the mark of the beast. They stopped being a good girl the moment they wanted to be a girl. But she never thought of any of the downsides to any of this.

It was a Faustian bargain: exchanging sentimentality for sensuality. The benefits outweighed the costs.

At least, until they got closer to Camden.

"Camden…" She whined — a bit too overdramatically — as she blinked back some tears. "You've got me crying! I hate that! Why are you doing this? Do you hate me that much?"

Maybe she was allergic to affection.

“My apologies for choosing something with less chest-bursting aliens, but it’s good to see you aren’t all one-liners and innuendoes.”

“It’s just…” Bosco observed while hiding back sniffles. She didn’t want her own emotions to overpower the cover of Queen’s “The Show Must Go On”, and that was emotional in of itself in context.  “She finds someone who genuinely loves her and– and self-worth, but that’s all taken away from her in the blink of an eye! And… I don’t want that to happen to me.”  They admitted, hoping that no one could hear her, but she did.

Camden gently pulled Bosco into a side hug as if the pressure from that could stop all of the tears. “It– it won’t. I’m right here… I’ll always be right here.”

“You sound so sure of yourself.”  They replied, their eyes still glued to the screen in front of them just in time to see Satine break Christian’s heart.

“What’s wrong, love?” She asked once that scene officially ended.

Bosco was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what they wanted to say and letting the ambient noises of the film play behind them. “I guess everything about this just seems too good to be true.”

They reflected on the nights where lovers just up and left while she still had welts on her ass from a good spanking or before she could even make them breakfast. They could remember one morning when she was in the middle of surprising her hookup with some French toast. She went to the bedroom, hoping that the smell of cinnamon and frying brioche would wake them up, only to be met with an empty bed.

“It may be too good to be true because… it is. True, I mean.  This isn’t making sense, but,” Camden stopped for a moment, trying to figure now not to sound cliche. “Dreams come true.”

“I guess.”

“What I mean to say is, you deserve this. Everything good that happens with you – with us, really – happens for a reason, and there’s no reason for you to doubt any of that. Because you are enough.”

“Goddammit, now you’re making me cry harder!” They kept blinking back tears, but it was about as useful as the windshield wipers in a hurricane. How was she supposed to make dinner later if she could barely see what she was cooking? “It’s probably just these new womanly emotions, but I love you so goddamn much right now! It’s not even funny.”

Neither of them realized it was the first time those words were said aloud. Bosco still found themself snuggled into Camden, their tears turning into ones of joy and wetting the human pillow’s shirt. Camden pulled a blanket over the two of them as she unpaused the movie and the two of them just watched it play.

“I don’t know what’s come over me,” Bosco sat back up once the movie ended, wiping whatever wetness was left off her cheeks. “I’m becoming a sap!”

“You’re my sap though, and I love you for it.”

“Maybe,” They sniffled, struggling to get off the couch with the sudden addition of the two cats who decided to join them mid-death scene. “Next time, can we choose something with a little less… feelings?”

Camden cuddled next to her girlfriend again, eyeing the rest of her DVD collection as the movie took them back to the main menu. “Well, The Notebook’s out the window.”

“Wasn't my speed anyway. Super big gestures, threatening to off yourself unless this girl goes out with you, the usual turn-offs…”

“That was mostly a joke anyway.” She admitted as she gently nudged the blanket off so Bosco could get up (and that Tito and Tobi wouldn’t be too perturbed). “I’ll think about it more. Can’t really think on an empty stomach”

“Oh, yeah!” They scrambled their side of the blanked off of them as she scrambled towards the kitchen. “What did you want again?”

“Surprise me.”

A bold request from Camden, but they made sure not to go too buckwild. She grabbed a box of penne and some spices from the cabinet and some other ingredients from the fridge, and she was going to make some pasta alla norma so well that their mother would rise from the grave and give them a pat on the back and some encouragement.

After all, they loved Camden, and she deserved the best.

#camsco #puppy writes things

[insidilust]

something so precious about puppy boys reaching a level of desperation that makes them try to get off on you during inopportune times.

sitting in a desk working while that clothed tdick ruts against your leg, grinding and seeping wetness through his underwear and onto your pants like hes in heat. little poor thing sandwiching your limb between his thighs and making the sweetest sounds, desperate for some attention and release.

its bad manners, really, but the best part is having a reason to punish him later for it.

#ftm nsft #ftm ns/fw #t4t ns/fw #t4t nsft #mlm ns/fw #mlm nsft #pet pl4y #puppy sub #ftm dom #ftm top #ftm bottom #ftm sub #delirious in the morning while writing this #miss this sort of thing. #thinking of bunny boys too #might do another post..

[artiststarme]

One time, Eddie avoided Steve for like three days out of nowhere. Steve freaked out because his boyfriend hated him for no reason and he had to have messed something up somehow but nothing was coming to mind. Robin was freaking out because Steve was and was frantically making lists of what could’ve pissed Eddie off so badly. The kids were stressed because something happened but Eddie was acting cagey and Steve was oblivious.

Steve thought his entire life was falling apart. On the fourth day of stressful avoidance, a fluffy little puppy ran out of the bathroom of their apartment and into Steve’s legs. That’s when he found out. Eddie had been avoiding him for days because he was working out how to convince Steve to let him keep the little furball.

Eddie had to sleep on the couch for awhile but little Bowie had a home for the rest of his life.

#sorry everyone for disappearing! #there’s a new puppy at my house and now I’m distracted from writing at every turn #I’m working on rectifying that! #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley

[bleaksqueak]

ooooh well it's not obvious he says like there is a single part of bursting open like a bloated melon oozing clots of petrol worms and eyes with teeth that is not obviously too horrifying to bear thinking about much less interacting with oooh nonono actually i have always longed to join with the terrors and dare i even hope birth a sentient sphincter of my very own a beautiful bouncing bundle of bile god just imagine the special day when the little gupper comes bursting out of my orifices which ones who knows i want to be surprised for its first screaming wet expulsion gosh isn't that just something that’s the real magic in this wondrous world i mean what girl doesn't dream about someday becoming a--

Read today's page.

Read from the start

Support artists and the production of this comic

#solivaga #artists on tumblr #comic #art #my art #pu art #webcomic #digital art #comic art #comics #original comic #webtoon #elias #maia #big puppy alert #dog #canine #he's done it he's cracked the code #This is the second time she's gone full shoujo... #what girl doesn't dream about going full shoujo #I also wish to pet the big fluffy dog #Maia's screed in this panel was one of the most fun things to write #paula and I just kind of kept writing it back and forth at each other until it was completely ridiculous and sour #and I just kept adding onto it until it was so grotesque it wrapped back around to silly #this screed and her flying-to-class-screed are two of my favorite bits of non-serious maia writing #tho she's very serious about these herself.

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

#genshin impact #genshin impact yandere #genshin yandere #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #furina x reader #yandere furina #yandere furina x reader #fic tag #pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic #aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage #esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy #not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing #furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley #vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check. #a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down #its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying.......... #only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her................. #also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf #no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up.. #yet #anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you #and make you owe her #two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight) #also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye #also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay

[ghostlyfleur]

imagine you’ve been apart for a day, maybe even less, and as you arrive to wherever the group has agreed to meet, you just run to your stevie. your stevie who grins real big as soon as he sees his angel and opens his arms for you to jump in, catching you with your hands around his waist. he peppers your face in soft kisses, whispers a “missed you so much, honey” and as he places you down, you cup his cheek and “how’s my sweet boy been?”

his brain short-circuits.

#fairy writes #steve harrington (harmo’s version) #boyfriend!steve harrington #lovesick!steve harrington #puppy bf!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x shy!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington concept #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington blurb #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

[roomy-ghosted]

My feelings towards ao3 this morning.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #like-i get it. but- #please. please for the love of god. just fluff or non-sexual fics. #for five seconds. #please. #I can only handle so much corn. especially when it's almost all geared just towards women. #this is all /lh i dont actually care all that much- but there comes a point where theres too much and all a man wants to do #is hold another man close. or go on perfume dates or pottery lessons with another man. #small things to help healing or gentle things or silly playful things. #hell- even taking care of all the spawn with Astarion in the bad ending- #why are all the bad ending fics ive seen corn btw? I've seen like- zero non-corn ones. #i get it. I get the vibe. but like- also. consider. like- maybe I wanna read angst with. with no corn?? please? #I've got 4 unposted fluffy fics im working on. One being hurt-comfort with some extra hurt #which i had to stop writing for a bit today because it was hurting a bit TOO much. #but yea. a little less corn for Astarion? for those who aren't horndogs? please? or just don't wanna fuck him because they #dont wanna hurt him more- (im not at the point in game where he's comfy with sex again yet-) #BESIDES GALE IN THE WAVEMOTHER ROBES IS RIGHT THERE PEOPLE- #LIKE COME ON. IF YOU'RE GONNA SEXUALISE A MAN HE'S RIGHT THERE WITH HIS PUPPY DOG EYES AN HAIRY CHEST. #There needs to be more sexualisation of Gale. NO I don't take no for an answer (Astarion is still my favourite though-)

[creelteeth]

a.n. i got this anon and had the idea to make it part two to this little blurb!

18+ content! MDNI

cw: overstim kind of , subby perv!steve , afab reader, thigh fucking

in typical casey fashion the ending is bad, pretend otherwise.

steve couldn't put into words how much power you had over him. he tried but he only babbled incoherent variants of "please" and "wanna fuck you." upon noticing just how desperate and weak willed he was you realized this entire event was going to happen as you wanted. deciding that after all the nasty things he'd been caught doing, he didn't deserve to fuck you quite yet. instead he had to settle for softest parts of your inner thighs.

laying flat on your back, your legs pushed together you let him climb up on top of you, his big hairy thighs straddling yours. tender achey tip pressing into the skin. he didn't seem to care that it wasn't a hole, far too dazed and caught up in the fact that you finally gave him some part of you. it was amusing the way he'd take anything you'd give him, the way his eager hips humped at the space between your legs.

his first orgasm hit him like a truck. he whined and shuddered, cum coating your inner thighs, spurting out to land on your pretty pussy. he wasn't allowed to stop, he knew that. you'd told him if carried on you might just let him stick his cock inside you. he was determined to appease you, despite the way the tip of his cock begged for a break. far too stimulated, the contact teetering an edge of painful. deliciously so.

“please… please I need you, need to fuck you—“ steve whined out the broken words, eager thrusts turning into sloppy slow ones.

his unsteady words cut off by your fingers in his mouth. your index and middle finger stuffing the lace pair of panties you were once wearing in past his lips to quiet him down. you made sure to lay the seat of the underwear flat against his tongue, giving him a taste of the arousal that soaked them. the taste of you make his hips jolt, sensitive tip plunging deeper into the sticky soft plush of your thighs.

"you wanna fuck me?" you questioned, cum covered thighs squeezing around his sensitive tip.

he mewled, drooling around the lace fabric that filled his mouth. nodding desperately in response to your question.

"alright, sit." you instructed, pushing him off you so that he could sit. hands motioning him to sit up straight.

you climbed over into his lap, his desperate hands coming up to grab at your hips but you swatted them away. steve was desperate to feel something, anything. his cock was a bright pink, balls heavy and tight against his thigh. he was nearing an edge of pussydrunk without even being touched by your cunt yet.

using one hand on his shoulder to keep you steady, the other grabbed the base of his cock, holding it still. he began to pant underneath you, eager to feel your soaking wet pussy wrapped around him, though that's not what he was met with. his eyes furrowing in pitiful frustration when you sat on his cock. the tip of his cock aligned with the hood of your swollen clit, folds laying against the shaft.

slowly you began to rock back and forth, your slippery cunt sliding up and down the underside of his cock. clit grinding down against the big thick vein that pulsed through him. your puffy lips engulfed him. using his cock like you would a toy.

"fuck, steve.. feels so good on my clit" you taunted him, fingers combing through the hairy patch on his chest, nails scraping against him tan skin.

if his mouth wasn't still full he'd be begging. his hands gripped at the couch cushions desperately. poor steve, completely overwhelmed by the filth of it all.

you were using him.

you were using him.

you were using him.

he didn't mind being the object of your satisfaction, in fact it drove him fucking crazy — but he was struggling to process it all. the way your clit pulsed when the hood of it got caught against his big meaty tip. the way you dripped and gushed all over his stomach and thighs. it sent shivers over his entire body. shockwaves.

he stared up at you with desperation, hips rocking upwards to meet your moments. the pitiful expression on his face softening you enough to pull the crumbled fabric from his mouth.

the second his mouth was free he was begging. "please—please,please,please..just put it in."

he panted, head falling back against the couch. he was going to cum again. you felt yourself growing needy too, cunt desperate to be filled by his big leaky cock, but you were stubborn. you wanted to push him farther.

'' do you deserve it? " you question him, reaching down to grab onto his balls, rolling them around in your palm.

" god- yes. please just fuck me, please. need to feel you." he hiccuped his words out.

without warning, the hand that fondled his balls moved up, grabbing the base of his cock to hold it up. you angled the swollen end towards your hole, pushing only the very tip of inside. your weeping cunt aching for more already.

"you gonna let me fuck myself on it, stevie?" before you could even finish the question he was nodding furiously. hips bucking up instinctively to push more of himself inside, eyes fluttering shut.

you took advantage of his eyes closing, sinking all the way down in one go. the head of his cock prodding right up against the most sensitive spot. the stretch of his cock made you hiss. you felt so full with him inside you. your walls held tightly around him, not yet relaxed from the intrusion but you began to bounce. sliding your soaking wet walls up and down, swallowing every last inch.

the new found contact made steve become considerably loud. if you didn't know any better you woulda thought this boy was a virgin. he sure acted like one. his hands flew to your hips, aiding in the rapidness of your movements. eyes screwed shut, lips hung open and panting.

"fuck! y-yeah.. fuck my cock. just like that. keep, fuck me, keep doing that." he encouraged you shakily.

the implication of his words made you clench around him. there he was, king steve, coming undone beneath you. you leaned forward, kissing and biting at the skin of his check. following from his clavicle to his neck, up to his ear. pausing to whisper.

"you like when my pussy milks your cock like this, don't you? bet like being used like my own personal toy." you tormented him.

his head fell to rest on your shoulder, body tensing up underneath you. "gonna cum." he spoke weakly, fingertips digging into the plush of your ass.

if you weren't about to spill too you would've made him hold off, but truth be told you craved him. wanted to feel him fuck you full of his remnants, so you egged him on. pressing kisses between each word. "give it to me. want you to fill me up."

being given permission to release inside you sent him over the edge. his arms desperately wrapping around your waist, holding you close and still so that he could fuck upwards into your slippery pussy.

his climax washed over both of you, the feeling of him emptying sending you over the edge. arms wrapping around his neck, hand sifting through the brown tufts of hair at the back of his neck. your sweaty trembling bodies entangling with each other.

you kept him inside you long after you'd come to, enjoying the feeling of fullness. steve still in a haze from the back to back orgasms he'd had, but he didn't let you go.

"I think you completely drained my balls." he joked, exhaustion evident in his face.

you clenched around him, smirking at the weak whine that came from him. "not quite finished with you yet, harrington."

#s.h. #perv!steve #Steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #perv!Steve is just a sub #the way I wanted the reader to call him puppy but I decided against it #next time... #casey writes

[neverevan]

Wip Wednesday 🎄

I was tagged by the ever so lovely @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @jamespearce9-1-1 @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon and @rainbow-nerdss mwuah 💛

Welp a little later than usual but here I am! And uh apparently I added another Christmas fic to the pile because why not lmao but it's just a real short one and I'm aiming for it to be posted this week. 🫡

He was just about to decide what kind of disgustingly greasy takeout food to order, when the door clicked open behind his back.

He turned to see— Eddie. Because of course it was Eddie.

“Hey,” he said gently, shutting the door behind himself and Buck knew it was a little irrational right now, but it still warmed his heart that Eddie came and went like this; that he knew no matter what, he was always welcome here.

“Hi.” Buck gave him a weak smile over the brim of his beer bottle, unsure of what to expect.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Why, did uh did I not seem okay?” Buck scoffed, just falling short of casual.

Eddie averted his gaze almost guiltily before pinning Buck with a knowing look. “No.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair.” Buck took a long swig of his beer with a grimace.

“You know it doesn’t change anything, right?”

“Uh no, Eddie, I really don’t know that.” Buck drawled and put the bottle down on the counter top with a loud clink.

“Bu—”

“Eddie, you’re leaving the 118. That- that literally changes everything!” He spread his arms widely, as if he could indicate just how much of that everything covered.

✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie

#most of this is just a flashback to post 5x10 and the whole thing is barely 1.5k #I spent so much time screwing around today but at least I've got this done ugh #also I'm not 100% sure yet but the current lineup is: 510 - puppy - hospital - ski fic #so like a fic a week #but we'll see how things go #also also fun fact: I initially screwed myself over with this #because I wanted it to be short so I started writing it in present tense #which I can only hold up for like twitter threads and tumblr ficlets #but then it got longer and I had to go back and change it 🙃 #it wasn't all that long but still ugh #anyway I shut up now #buddie #911 #wip #the 510 fic

[resident-gay-bitch]

you can now find eddies pov here :))

this wasn’t going to be easy, and that was a fact.

dustin was already distraught, a blabbering fucking mess for the entire walk from the town centre to the creel house in this slimy godforsaken underworld.

they were already at their wits end, with barely a string of hope left when eddie stepped in. eddie, who was now a bad guy apparently. steve had to tackle dustin to the ground when eddie first swooped in and tried to slice nancys throat open with his claw because dustin just wanted to hug him.

that was hard enough. everything was hard enough. but now steve had to face - and probably be the one to kill because he was the brawn if nancy couldn’t - the very man who had been haunting his dreams for months and led him to ask robin the question of how she knew.

he was… rabid. clothes ripped and clinging to his body in unnatural ways, his hair a fucking wild mess, his eyes glowing red, his skin paler than usual, the tips of his fingers now black and sharp like talons, extra teeth that were far sharper than teeth should ever be, a snake like tongue, wings!, and not to mention he was soaked in blood. he had it dripping from his chin for fucks sake.

whatever that thing was, it wasn’t eddie.

but it was.

so they’d spent the past hour trying to hide and calm dustin and devise a new plan, whilst trying to survive in this hell.

yeah this was going to be the hardest thing steve’s ever done.

he was probably going to die today.

well, if he died at the hands- claws of eddie, then at least he’d be dying with something beautiful. monster or not.

they stepped back out into the road, steve leading the pack and nancy covering the back.

something swooped overhead, casting a wide shadow, and by the break in dustin’s voice, steve knew it was the eddie thing.

he looked up to see the beast pearched atop a stobie poll, crouched with his hands between his feet like an animal, his wings hanging down behind him.

he looked right at steve, and steve felt his heart stop.

covered in blood and fucking terrifying, steve still loved him.

more than ever, actually.

eddie cocked his head to the side, just looking at steve.

steve adjusted the grip of his nail bat over his shoulder, ready in position to swing. he heard nancy cock her gun, he heard mike and dustin grab onto eachother, and noticed el stepping up beside him at the ready.

eddie just sat there. he moved his head slowly forward, like he was trying to get a better look. he was assessing them, probably, figuring out the quickest way to kill them all without getting hurt.

it made steve sweat.

if eddie wasn’t so high right now, steve would just charge and take a swing. get this over with. give the kids the best advantage.

eddie quickly straightened his head out and made a sound. it was a weird sound. sort of like a creepy roll of his tongue and then a click. it sounded far too much like a demo dog for steve’s comfort.

everyone froze at eddie’s sudden moment and then started looking around after he’d made the sound.

had he called for help?

steve clenched his jaw and gripped the bat tighter, eyes fixed on eddie.

eddie raised his wings up high, spread out wide and they were big. like fucking massive. steve was sure one wing alone was longer than he was.

everyone braced for impact.

eddie made the sound again and stood, standing tall atop the electricity pole, and then he made another sound that was more like a birds chirp (if the bird was dying).

and then he moved, and everyone made sudden noise and yielded his weapons but then stopped not a second later.

eddie was falling.

he was just freefalling backwards off the stobie poll with his hands clutched at his heart.

right before he hit the ground, his wings kicked up into action and carried him back up into the air. and once he was high enough, really fucking high, he dropped again.

steve was confused.

eddie dropped and then… oh shit, he wrapped his wings around himself and was fucking spiraling through the air like an arrow, heading straight for steve.

he heard will shout to run, and everyone jumped back but-

steve was on the ground, groaning and trying to fight eddie off who was on top of him, pinning him down. steve didn’t know where his bat went.

eddie was looking at him with wide eyes.

steve’s jumped out of his skin, screaming when he heard nancys gunshot.

silence.

eddie made a small sound, a shrill one, like he was hurt.

oh he was hurt.

eddie turned his head and spread out his wing and steve could see a perfect circle cut through it. eddie looked at it, then moved his wing out of the way to scowl at nancy.

this couldn’t be good.

eddie snarled at her, his snake like tongue darting out to his before he was grabbing steve and lifting them up into the air.

steve screamed, he’d never been this high before.

nancy had aimed her gun to shoot again but dustin stopped her, there was a very good chance she’d hit steve if she did.

steve didn’t know where his bat was.

eddie started flying, steve clutched tight in his arms and he had no clue where they were going because he had his eyes squeezed shut.

he was so gonna die like this.

and then they stopped, and steve was being layed down on something… soft?

he opened his eyes to find eddie crouched over him again, his hands between his feet like before, his wings draped down behind him, his head cocked as red eyes blinked at steve curiously.

steve rubbed his head and looked around to find that he was… in the highschool theatre dressing room? he only recognised it because it was a classic in school make out spot.

he was laying on a pile of pillows and ratty old blankets that were piled on top of a few mattresses. pillows, big and small, were piled up even higher around the mattresses and it looked… it looked like a nest.

eddie made the clicky sound again and then chirped happily and crawled away.

steve was beyond confused.

he sat up and looked around.

beside him was an old mangled bear, there was just a pile of flannel shirts in one corner of the nest, eddie’s guitar was leaning up against the edge of the nest wall, there were those weirdly shaped dice dustin always carried scattered around, and… oh.

steve moved a pillow to the side a little to find his old varsity jacket stuffed there. it was dirty and a little wear for tear, but everything was in the upside down.

he wondered why eddie had it.

he moved the pillow some more to find one of his shirts there too. and then he lifted a blanket to find a whole collection of his clothes! a few shirts, a red jumper, three odd socks and one matching pair, a pair of purple boxers, his old basketball shorts, a singular sneaker that matched the one on his foot now, and a yellow sweater that steve recognised as the one he threw at eddie on the boat.

steve pet his own chest to feel the familiar bumps of the pins and patches of eddie’s battle vest laid there.

oh.

oh they- they were the same.

they missed eachother.

they barely knew eachother, but they missed not being able to learn.

steve spun around when he felt eddie’s presence again, and eddie was sitting in his same weird stance, but this time right beside steve, his face abnormally close.

steve kinda freaked out.

eddie cocked his head again, blinked those wide eyes that steve couldn’t find scary, even under the red.

steve held up the varsity jacket in one hand and gave it a waggle. eddie looked at it and then looked back at steve, then back at the jacket, then back at steve, and then he purred.

steve didn’t know why it gave him butterflies.

eddie nodded his head forward until his head bumped steve’s shoulder, and then he looked back up with those wide eyes again.

“it’s yours.” steve said simply, tugging at the sleeve of eddie’s vest on himself, “i know, i’m sorry. i hope you don’t mind. it helped ground me on the bad days.”

eddie cocked his head.

“can you understand me?” steve asked.

eddie nodded.

steve was very glad to hear that, “can you talk like me?”

eddie just looked at him.

steve sighed, “i’ll take that as a no.” he hummed, “you have a lot of my things.”

eddie dropped something else on his lap.

their old year book from eighty two. steve opened it up to the page that was indented, obviously eddie looked at it a lot.

on the page was a picture of the swim team, steve posing in one picture with one other guy - the co captains - however, the other guys face had been covered by a cutout of eddie’s face. above it in red sharpie wrote “by the time you graduate, this will be real, and he will be nice and want you back”.

steve couldn’t help his laugh.

eddie crushed on him in highschool?

steve stopped his laughing when eddie made a sharp sound of protest, and steve looked up to see his already wide eyes even wider and… a pout?

oh god, he was making a puppy dog face at steve right now.

god, steve had heard so much about his puppy dog face from wayne, he’d dreamed about being on the receiving end of one himself. and here he was, only it was different now. he had pale skin and dark eyes and blood on his chin.

steve closed his mouth and looked at the pleading expression on eddie's still pretty face, and kinda melted.

"you technically still haven't graduated, you know?" steve found himself saying, and he didn't know why. eddie was technically a demon or something. steve should be running for the hills, but...

eddie made a chipy clicky sound again and then suddenly something wet was touching his cheek and- okay, eddie was licking him.

eddie was liking him a lot, like a dog.

steve laughed and pulled away and smiled at eddie, "licking? really?"

eddie smiled and nodded, shuffled steve back into the steve pile under the blankets and made him rest there. steve did lay, and rest, leant up against the pile of pillows and old clothes. he'd forgoten all about the high stakes of everything, because all he could think about was eddie. eddie here, alive- not really there, but here no less.

eddie shoved steve into the shape he wanted and then grabbed the old mangled teddy with his teeth and crawled over to steve. he dropped himself down heavily into steves lap - causing him to jolt forward and gasp from the sudden weight and pain - and curled up. his wings wrapped around steve, caving him in. eddie nussled his head against steves chest, under the opening of the vest, the mangled teddy clutched tight in his arms, and then he purred again, a big long one.

it was so warm like this.

steve didn't care if eddie wasn't really eddie anymore, because deep down inside, he was still every bit eddie that he could be. it was this world that had turned him into something else.

plus, who was he to judge? steve was a much uglier monster at one point in his life too, bulying and kicking people to the ground during highschool, but he was still good at heart these days. eddie could be too.

he was.

there was no doubt about it.

steve ran his hand over - not through because he physically couldn't - eddie's hair and held him close, and they rested there together for a while, in eddie's home.

saving the world could wait a little while.

#kas eddie #unedited #jay writes #steddie #kas!eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve pov #steve x eddie #steves lowkey a monster fucker #kas eddie is so cute to me #he may be a physical monster but hes still a little cutie pie #he would pull the puppy dog face #i just know it #also 1992 eddie would pull cringy shit like that and edit photos to make him and steve look like a couple #he would also write “mr eddie harrington” in his note book #boy was whipped #he was so happy to find steve kept his vest too! #might do a pt 2 eddie pov? #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5?

[robertdowneyjjr]

hey, so. funny thing.

@whinysteve and i have been going insane for like two days because we couldn't find this one fic we really liked, and we both remembered reading it not so long ago but somehow neither of us could recall how it ended? and we kept saying that it's so GOOD and how the heck did it just disappear? well, after hours of losing my mind going through my ao3 history, the steve/tony tag with various keywords, the findingstony blog... it. it hit me that i can't find it because it doesn't exist. because it was the soulmates au idea you posted like two weeks ago where their words only show up after they've met their soulmate.

i thought you might find this amusing. 😩 (i do, but i also need to lie down for a bit because i will never know how steve fixed that mess)

hahahaha omg liv if this is your way of peer pressuring me into writing the whole fic i might actually do it??? because your ask has got me thinking about what would happen next.

that said, steve still hasn't figured out how to fix this mess. i'm very sorry about this.

(stonyclunks soulmates au part one here)

---

having been rescued by SHIELD, news of steve's recovery was immediately delivered to howard stark who, while not as involved with SHIELD as he used to be, still receives weekly reports as one of its co-founders.

he'd gone home that night and brought it up in the middle of cutting his steak. coincidentally, tony had been visiting that day and stayed for dinner, so he found out about captain america's miraculous resurrection before the general public did, and honestly, he had enough of hearing about how great this guy was growing up. he really didn't need to keep hearing about it as an adult after he'd finally worked through his issues with his dad and his obsession with a (not quite) dead war hero.

so after howard's announcement, tony politely requested howard refrain from talking about this guy with him.

"i know he's your friend, and you'll probably be spending a bit of time with him now that he's been found, and i'm really happy for you, but i think it would be better for our relationship if we could talk about literally anything but him," he'd said.

and, well. howard was trying. he knew he wasn't the best dad and he also wanted to do right by maria, who spent so many years torn between her son and her husband while trying to mend their relationship. they were finally in a relatively good place with each other which made maria happy. and to be frank, howard had actually come to really enjoy tony's company whenever he was home. he was quite happy too. so he agreed. they don't talk about steve and howard doesn't ask tony to meet steve.

that very night, tony made sure 'captain america' and 'steve rogers' were muted in all his news feeds and social channels.

he literally doesn't know a single thing about the man besides what he learned in his childhood, which he's blocked out. it's a peaceful two years of blissful ignorance.

fast forward to now, tony's packing up his suitcase and getting ready to check out of his hotel when he sees a text from his mom in their family group chat.

seems he's not quite the perfect role model you always made him out to be, howard 🤡, her message reads.

what follows is a link to an instagram post, and from the message preview he can see that it's steve rogers' profile, and under normal circumstances he wouldn't even bother clicking the link.

but 1) maria usually never brings up the man in tony's presence either, and 2) her comment made him laugh. so color tony intrigued.

he taps the link and sees the post. it's a picture of a coffee cup from the place he was at a week ago. the one where he got body slammed by his mysterious dick of a soulmate and unfairly yelled at for it.

he reads the caption and his legs give out under him.

i don't even know if you'll see this, but all i can do is hope. i'm sorry for the words that have made their mark on you. i know i don't deserve it, but i'm hoping you could give me a second chance. i won't yell at you this time, i promise. yours, a fucking asshole

one week ago, captain america was barely even a blip on tony's radar and that's how he preferred it. now, steve rogers is tony's mysterious dick of a soulmate.

what the fuck even is his life.

#they have a lot to work through!! but they'll get there #also i'm determined to write good dad howard at least once in my life #i think tony deserves it in an au at the very least #anyway howard texts steve and he's like 'my wife thinks you're a dramatic bitch' #'good luck with whatever mess you've got yourself in lol drinks next week?' #steve who still hasn't received any DMs from his soulmate a week later follows howard home like a lost puppy #because he's sad and just wants to whine a bit longer #guess who they see getting out of the car with maria after a night at the opera 😃 #stevetony #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #stonyclunks soulmates au #kay writes things #soliloquent-stark #ask

[shitouttabuck]

wip wednesday

tagged by @rewritetheending @onward--upward and @alyxmastershipper 💓💓💓

i haven’t reeeeally started writing anything other than planning this out broadly because it’s very plot heavy but got a little lost thinkin about the intimacy of shaving the other day so this is from x files au in some shitty shared motel room while they’re cryptid hunting or chasing aliens idk we’ll figure it out

When he emerges, hair towelled dry and in clean clothes, Eddie frowns at him. “What?” he asks. “Promise I didn’t finish all the hot water.” “No, you just look—” Eddie gestures at Buck’s face, “—scruffier than usual.” “Oh,” Buck says, running a hand over his day-four stubble. “I forgot my razor.” “Oh,” Eddie’s face clears, “just use mine.” Buck swallows. “Um. Okay. Thanks.” Eddie nods at him and goes back to squinting at his phone, so Buck about-faces and re-enters the bathroom. It’s not a big deal, he tells himself as he foams up his face. It’s like—like sharing a hairbrush. Intimate, sure, not something you’d tend to do with people you don’t know well, but it’s not a big deal.  He wets the razor and brings it to his throat, heart hammering there so violently it feels like his Adam’s apple is trying to get out. If his hand doesn’t stop trembling he’s going to nick himself, and God, he is being absolutely fucking ridiculous. Deep breath. The razor glides over the thin skin of his throat, muscle memory even as he stares at himself in the mirror. Doesn’t think about Eddie doing this every morning, using this very razor. Blade edge kissing his jaw the same way it kisses Eddie’s. Doesn’t think about Eddie doing this for him, hand holding his chin as he shaves Buck carefully, grip firm when he turns Buck’s face this way and that. Doesn’t think about Eddie kissing where the blade kissed him first.  Doesn’t think about any of that when he rinses the razor clean and slots it back into the travel mug, where Buck’s toothbrush rests against Eddie’s with such easy familiarity it’s about to spark a whole new crisis. 

tagging @try-set-me-on-fire @jeeyuns @housewifebuck @anxieteandbiscuits @forthewolves @zahlibeth @athenagranted @buckactuallys @transboybuckley @icecreampotluck @diazblunt if you have anything to share today or later!

#since starting t the last couple months i've had to start shaving my face and it's quite weird actually! gender is so [waves hand] like idk #but didn't have anyone to teach me. and was just thinking about how it wouldve been a pretty intimate thing if i had #also i think this fic will have switching pov which is very exciting to me #but also. it's a mammoth one even just planning it and i have so much real life shit i've been ignoring #and also writing a shorter silly thing that im having fun with rn so might put this on the backburner #but also x4 my foster puppy just got taken to his new home and im sad and miss him like a goddamn lung #so i need something to distract me every empty minute and eddie diaz as dana scully is going to be that i think #but ALSO there’s so much fic i want to catch up on READING #ain’t enough time in the day. and yet i never seem to do anything #sorry for these endless tags #tag game #wip #x files au

[greeksorceress]

Lucerys, who has no interest in Ser Criston’s lessons, has put aside his sword and is crouching down in the dust.

The sun is blazing hot, and the air around the training grounds feels stuffy even if they’re in the open. Sweat coats Aemond’s temple and nape, the heat has been biting his pale skin without mercy since they stepped outside for their daily sword lessons. But where Aemond seems to be slowly decaying, Lucerys pays no mind to the scorching sun rays. 

Lucerys is not sweating like the rest of them. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s not training as hard as his brother and uncles. Well, uncle. What Aegon is doing can hardly be called training.

Aemond both despises and envies that about him, the careless manner in which Lucerys carries himself. If he doesn’t want to train anymore, easily bored of the monotonous routine that Sir Criston forces upon them, then he discards his sword and distracts himself with what he deems worth enough of his attention at the moment. 

Entitled, his mother likes to mumble when Rhaenyra and her brood aren’t listening. Undeserving, grandfather Otto whispers in their ears. Versatile, Aemond likes to contend, the rare moments he’s permitted to think for himself. 

“Prince Lucerys,” Ser Criston growls without looking at the boy, overseeing Aegon’s pitiful and uninterested strikes at Rhaenyra’s oldest. “This is my last warning. Your mother might’ve taught you that it’s okay for you to spend your days frolicking and wasting your time, but the King himself ordered me to teach you how to handle the sword and you’re not above his word.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” snaps Jacaerys, halting his attacks on Aegon, briefly correcting himself when Ser Criston glares at him, “sir.”

However, his younger nephew doesn’t pay Ser Criston any mind, he continues playing with the dirt and merely hums back at him. “My mother, the future Queen, says it’s okay for me to frolic, Ser Criston.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, bitting off his own amusement. It’s admirable how Lucerys, barely seven name days and discredited by the entire court since birth, isn’t afraid to talk back to Ser Criston. Aemond is no fool, he’s seen the amount of respect Lucerys has for any of the adults in their family, this is something personal between their mentor and him.

It’s just fair. If Ser Criston doesn’t like Lucerys, Lucerys should be allowed to dislike him back. 

Aemond is curious, though, about what can be so mesmerising that Lucerys risks setting off Ser Criston’s terrible temper upon him. 

He knows that if he moves from his post, a step away from the makeshift fight ring they’ve dug in the soil, if he’s anything but ready and waiting for a command, Ser Criston will notice it. The knight has been harsher on Aemond lately, scolding him when he goes soft on Lucerys and kicking him with the pommel of his word when he attempts to take some of his own training time to help his youngest nephew. 

It’s infuriating, Aemond is risking being in the knight’s not so good graces while Lucerys hasn’t even looked at Aemond once, not even when he knocked down his own brother, a head taller and almost twice his weight.

He just wants to see what’s so interesting that Lucerys doesn’t even acknowledge with sparkling eyes that Aemond has won seven out of the eight duels that have taken place so far. 

It’s not fair, because Lucerys applauded his brother when he had hit Aemond’s sword off his hand the previous morrow. 

He tries to go back to Jacaerys and Aegon’s bout, memorise their mistakes so he can overpower them when his turn comes, but he keeps stealing looks at Lucerys and his nimble fingers scratching the grime. 

He just wants to see, even if it’s something stupid like a piece of a spear or the kind of bugs Helaena favours. Aemond caves in and strains his neck, losing the little interest he had in his oldest nephew and brother in the first place. 

Lucerys isn’t playing with an insect, nor has found a treasure worth of a tale. His nephew is drawing on the dust, scratching the ground and kicking out of his path the little pebbles that attempt to ruin his creation. 

The drawing itself is not good.

Lucerys does’t lack artistic skills and is the most talented with ink and parchment in their family, and while most of the times he seems to capture things as they are to the point of uncommon perfection, the depiction he’s plastering in the soil just feels wrong.

It’s a girl, Aemond can tell this much. She has long, wavy hair and big eyes that shine bright thanks to the little stones Lucerys has used for her irises.

For a second, Aemond thinks it must be Rhaenyra, but then he sees her teeth.

There’s a lot of them, at least two upper rows, long and pointy, protruding from her mouth like a dragon’s. Her maw is wide open, waiting for her next meal.

It’s terrifying. 

“Who is that, Lucerys?” 

Lucerys shrugs his shoulders,  “I don’t know. Saw her in a dream.”

Aemond hums, familiar with Lucerys’ nightmares. Their mentors are already at their wits ends, unable to direct Lucerys to the right path now that the boy seems so lost in his head. Slow, had said Aemond’s mother during their private supper a couple nights ago. 

Useless, had agreed his grandfather. Similar to the good Princess Helaena, Aemond overhead Maester Gerardys telling Rhaenyra that same day.

Aemond wonders if Lucerys and Helaena are connected by their dreams when Lucerys finally, finally, turns and smiles up at him, bunny teeth peeking. As Aemond valiantly tries and fails to not count all the freckles that adorn his nephews’s nose and cheeks one by one, he decides that perhaps there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to the most inoffensive members of the family. 

There’s a speck of dust in the tip of Lucerys’ nose and he wants to bend down and—

The air is swiftly knocked out of him. He coughs and glares at Aegon, who clearly can’t believe his own luck. He hasn’t been able to catch Aemond off guard for years now, so this victory must be sweet on his tongue.

“Got you, twat!”

Aemond scowls and rips the wooden sword that his brother used to hit his chest from his hands.

“Aegon, that’s enough.” Sir Criston scolds before turning his disapproval to Aemond, “now, if you’re amenable, my Prince, it’s your turn.”

He nods and steps into the ring, taking a last look towards Lucerys.

Lucerys is back to his drawing, discarding Aemond’s presence once more.

Aemond wants to kick the ground until the monstrous girl is nothing but a thin layer of dust in the air.

#this is a little teaser about my the witcher inspired au lucemond <3 #can it be considered a little teaser when it's over 1K words tho? #aemond is in love and he doesn't understand why lucerys isn't paying him attention 24/7 #aaaah puppy love what a dangerous thing when mixed with targaryen obsessive tendencies <3 #lucemond #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #lucerys x aemond #about: my writing #my writing: lucemond #otp: lucemond #otp: fated feud

[chapel-of-rizztual]

More puppy Mountain

Because I love him so much

Aether was sat on the sofa in ghouls common room, happily watching re runs of Dr. Who. He’d finished his chores early for once and was enjoying the hour of peace he’d get before the rest joined him. It was then that he was surprised by Mountain wiggling his way into his lap, pupils blown and distant look in his eyes. He knew that look. That look only meant one thing.

“Hi, puppy.” He run his fingers through his hair.

Mountain whines and nuzzles his face into Aethers belly, tail wagging rapidly behind him.

“Oh, you’re a happy puppy?” He smiles down at the giant ghoul curled up in lap, rubbing is face along his belly. He scratches behind Mountain’s ears making him let out a low rumbly purr, his tail thumping harder against the pillows on the sofa.

Mountain looks up at Aether, his eyes watery and a pout on his face. Aether rubs along the nape of his neck causing Mountain’s leg to kick out and shake on its own accord.

“That feel good, puppy?” Aether chuckles at his reaction.

Mountain just whines again, pouting up at him. He wiggles his way onto his back, exposing his belly for Aether, whining once again.

“You want belly rubs? Is that what you’re after?” Aethers already pushing Mountains T-shirt up.

Mountain chuffs in between purrs, pushing his belly up in Aethers hand. Aether uses his claws to scratch at his belly and Mountain absolutely melts against him, tongue lolling out of his mouth, drool spilling down his chin as he chuffs and purrs loudly.

Mountain’s tail wags so hard his whole body wiggles with it, his leg kicks uncontrollably again when Aether scratches just below his belly button.

“That the good spot?”

Mountain whines and his head rolling against Aether’s thigh.

“I’ll take that as a yes”.” Aether chuckles

Aether uses his spare hand to card his fingers though Mountain’s hair, untangling the knots and pulling out leaves that had embedded themselves in the earth ghouls bird nest of hair.

“Have you been rolling around in the dirt in the greenhouse?” Aether asks, only now just noticing the the dusting of dirt that covered Mountain’s face.

Mountain makes eye contact with him, a guilty shyness shining in his eyes.

“Well, that will explain this.” Aether untangles a twig from Mountain’s hair and holds it up to show him. Mountain let’s out a playful growl, leaning up and trying to bite the twig out Aether’s hand. Aether flicks the twig across the room, watching as Mountain’s pupils dilate as he follows it.

“No.” He warns. “We can play fetch later, you need a bath first.”

Mountain growls, properly this time, his ears pinning back.

“Hey! What is that reaction for?” Aether gasps. “You love the bath.”

Mountain pushes his belly up into Aether’s hand again, with a whine.

“Oh, you want more belly rubs?”

Mountain chirps in response, wiggling slightly, exposing his neck to Aether.

“You want your collar, puppy?” Mountain’s ears perk back up.

“Yeah? Go get it then, puppy.”

Aether watches as Mountain clumsily jumps from the side, running across the room with the grace of a baby elephant, his T-shirt still bunched up around his chest. He laughs watching him bound up the stairs on all fours, tripping over his tail as he goes.

It only takes a few seconds for him come running back down the stair, on two legs this time, shirt completely off and collar in his hand. It’s a simple collar, velvet and soft, deep forest green in colour, with a silver heart tag attached to it with the word “puppy” engraved into it. It suits Mountain perfectly.

Mountain comes back up to Aether, handing him the collar, looking unsure if he should sit back on the sofa again.

“Why don’t you kneel for me, puppy.”

Mountain drops to his knees, in between Aether’s legs, resting his head on his thigh.

Aether fastens the collar around his neck with a soft click.

“Good boy.”

Mountain’s tail thuds against floor and he looks up at Aether with big puppy eyes.

“You wanna stay down there or do you wanna come back back up here?” Aether asks patting his lap. Mountain scrambles of the floor and crawls back into Aether’s lap. He flops into his back yet again, exposing his belly for Aether. Aether laughs, scratching at Mountain’s belly with his claws once again.

#he’s literally my favourite thing ever #puppy mountain #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #ficlet #ghost headcanons #the band ghost #my writing #pet regression

[ghostlyfleur]

your stevie is yellow personified.

he’s a picnic set up at a clearing in the woods. he’s being surrounded by plants and grass and flowers, birds chipping, sun bright in the sky. he’s rays of sunshine, he’s the flower crown you made and put in his hair, he’s a small daisy he placed behind your ear. strawberries, butterflies, soft fabrics. a summer day. chilling in a pool. stargazing. he’s surrounded by the scent of happiness. blushed cheeks. freckles. sun kissed skin. bashful smiles. gentle caresses. so much care and warmth. he is cuddles. he is long hugs. he is kisses a bit too close to the lips. he’s the smell of sunscreen and chlorine. he’s freshly baked cookies, apple pies in window sills, loud laughs. he’s sunday mornings spent in bed. he’s tentative hand holding, he’s eye contact, he’s shy cheek kisses. he is honey. he is tea in front of the fireplace. he is tender kisses, slow kisses, passionate kisses. he’s soft sweaters. he’s sharing clothes with his love. he’s overprotectiveness. he is lame jokes and carpool and sleepovers and light. he’s sunflowers. he is falling in love, staying in love. he’s domestic bliss. he’s devoted to his girl. he’s his found family’s biggest protector. he’s ‘i love you’s whispered in between kisses. he’s scented candles and hot chocolate and curtains blowing in the wind. he’s the sun.

steve harrington is yellow.

#fairy writes #steve harrington (harmo’s version) #boyfriend!steve harrington #lovesick!steve harrington #hopeless romantic!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington thoughts #puppy boyfriend!steve harrington #st x you #st x reader #stranger things imagine

[sailing-through-hawkins]

that scene from bolt (2003? 2005?) where mittens teaches him how to do puppy eyes but it's steve and robin except it became steddie:

"What are you talking about, of course i know how to pout!"

"No, Robin, because you pouting is you trying to shove your lip as far as you can shove your tongue out, which is kinda weirdly far."

"I made a record, I stand by that"

"I do too, it was cool - but the point is you don't make use of the most important factor - your fucking eyes, dingus."

"Okay hotshot, maybe you used to have charm or whatever but this is the real world and -"

"Hello foes, friends and reluctant allies!" Eddie bursts in through the door, thank god there's no moms in the store to gasp like him being alive is a scandal. Robin doesn't know how much more "he's not to be trusted, you know" she can take this week. "What say you on this glorious day of sunny tides and cloudless skies?"

"How do you have so much energy," Robin groans because it's been two hours of being at work and that's five hours too many. "And why are you shoving it in our faces."

"Fear not, good lady Buckley," Eddie dumps a very noisy bag onto the counter and bows in his classic-Eddie-way. God, why does Steve like this guy, what is his thing with nerds? "I have brought rewards and sweets abound for your tortorous job sentencing."

"Oh my god," Steve slaps her arm and immediately goes rummaging through the bag like the rude little man he is. "Fuck yes!"

"Ahem," Eddie coughs pointedly, freezing Steve in his tracks. He raises an eyebrow as Steve slowly his hand out of the bag without breaking eye contact. "You're welcome?"

"Thank you, Eddie," Robin rolls her eyes and immediately shoves Steve aside - "Hey!" - to zero in on finding a pushpop, which she does, because she's a genius. "Aha, got it!"

"No fair!" Steve whines, shoving at her weakly after she "I wanted that one."

"There's another in the bag," Robin shoves back because tit for tat, fucker. Doesn't matter who started it unless Steve started it.

"Sorry, Steve-O," Eddie snatches the bag off the counter and picks out the pushpop with an evil grin. "But that one's mine."

"Aw, come on!" Steve slumps his shoulders but his eyes light up when he glances at Robin, so she settles in her lean on the counter because that's a signal, that's Steve's signal for "watch my back, look at me" and damn if she won't.

Steve's shoulder slump down even more as he leans over the counter, head tilted to one side and upwards to look up at Eddie. His eyes do something, go big under a semi-wrinkled brow, while he purses his lips just a bit and stares up. "Please, Eds?"

"Uh," Eddie, on the flip side, is staring down at Steve with big eyes too but these are wider and flit around Steve's face, and his brow goes high up while his jaw drops down low. "Um?"

"Can I have the last pop, Eds?" Steve leans not even an inch closer but Eddie blinks down at him like he's the fucking messiah, holy shit, it's working. "Please?"

Eddie swallows, interesting, and nods dumbly. He doesn't even seem to realize that he's handing over the pop before it's gone and blinks at his empty hand.

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve stands up properly now and smiles around the pop in his mouth.

Eddie blinks again, once at his hand, once at Steve and once at Robin.

"Holy shit," Robin slaps and shakes Steve's arm because he's too busy grinning at Eddie to look at her. "You gotta teach me that."

"Told you," he says smugly, grinning wider when they both realize Eddie is staring at his now crossed arms. Holy shit, it works. "Ready for the first lesson, padawan?"

Eddie snaps his head up and just outright stares at Steve, jaw still agape and face still flushed. "Did you just say padawan?"

"What does the first lesson entail, Stevie?" Robin continues the bit as though Eddie said nothing.

"Find a goal," Steve smirks, reaching over the counter to trail a hand down Eddie's arm. "Eddie's mine."

He squeaks. He fucking squeaks. Robin is delighted, this is a gold mine of blackmail and bribery.

"And then pinpoint exactly what you want from the goal," Steve instructs before turning to Eddie with a smile. "Something like you, over at my place tonight? Maybe at seven, watch a movie or two together?"

"Is - are you serious?" Eddie gulps, eyes flitting between the pair of them. "Are you - asking me out?"

"One hundred percent, Eds," Steve reassures him. "Been wanting to ask you out for a while."

"Oh," Eddie blinks, his slow nod getting faster and faster. "Yes, yeah. Movie date tonight, your place. I'll pick the movies?"

"Sounds good," Steve says sweetly, and waves a giggly bye as Eddie launches towards the dinky corner of the store where they keep the best of the horror flicks.

"Alright, that was pretty smooth," Robin admits. "Think it'll work on Joyce so I don't have to do the dishes on Friday?"

Steve shakes his head with a laugh and nudges her. "Nothing's getting you out of dish duty rotation."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #writing #ficlet #ringus dingus #this was written separately from that 5+1 puppy eyes post but like i stand by both #also i had to look up popular american candy from the 80s for this so uh pushpops were apparently a thing idk #sailor✧writes