#👀 write them

[https-furina]

so.. hear me out… angst…

[matchingbatbites]

For @steveshairychest and based on their post here. I read it and just couldn't resist <3

The thing is, Eddie knows that Steve is straight. Honestly, that's the only reason Eddie is as bold as he is, why he starts flirting with him in the first place. He's got years of repressed feelings towards the younger boy, and now they're friends, good friends, and Eddie feels comfortable letting loose some of that pent up attraction, knowing that Steve won’t shun him for it.

He does start off small, just to be safe, with pet names and terms of endearment like handsome, honey, sweetheart. Just little things that make Steve's mouth quirk in a smile, nothing to make him feel uncomfortable. The longer Eddie goes, though, the bolder he gets.

The first pickup line is a joke. They’ve been talking about some new beach movie that's just been released onto video when Steve mentions his lifeguard certification, and before Eddie can stop himself he says “It's a good thing you're a lifeguard, because I'm drowning in your eyes.” 

Steve laughs at that, not mean, just surprised, and is still grinning as he gives a half-hearted “Shut up, Eds,” and turns back to what he was working on. 

And, oh, Steve has no idea what he's done, because Eddie is instantly obsessed with the need to make Steve laugh, to pull out that playful side of him that’s so rare to witness. So Eddie pulls out every dumb pickup line in the book, tries his best to make him laugh again.

“Hey, Stevie, your hand looks lonely. Can I hold it for you?”

“Did you just come out of an oven? Because you're too hot to handle.”

“Is your dad a boxer? Because baby, you're a knockout.”

Most of the time Steve just rolls his eyes and grins, but every so often he’ll make that surprised laugh, or god forbid, he’ll giggle, and Eddie mentally crows in victory every time it happens.

The kiss thing is spur of the moment one day, when Eddie has been hanging out just to be around Steve, and causing a little bit of a racket in the store. After a while, Steve playfully shoves at Eddie's shoulder and says "Get out of here before you get me in trouble, man," and Eddie just grins as he leans into Steve's space. 

"What? No goodbye kiss before you send me off into the world?" 

And oh god, Steve actually blushes this time, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink, and oh fuck, Eddie is such a goner. Steve shakes his head and tries his best to hide a smile as he says "In your dreams, Eddie." 

"In my dreams it’ll be, then, handsome," Eddie replies with a grin, giving a mock salute on his way out the door.

It becomes a usual thing, Eddie hanging out and flirting and asking Steve for a kiss before he leaves. Every time, Steve's response is the same, that delightful blush covers his cheeks as he grins and pushes Eddie away with a "Keep dreaming," or a "You wish,” or even a half-assed “Fuck off, Eds.”

It all comes back to bite him in the ass when, for once, Eddie arrives at the video store to pick up Robin, instead of just doing his usual lazing about and bothering Steve.

Walking in, he doesn't see Buckley immediately, but he does spot his favorite person behind the counter and he beelines to Steve. He leans on the counter, elbows on the clean surface and chin in his hands as he bats his eyelashes at Steve.

"Hi Stevie! How's the prettiest boy in Hawkins today?" 

Steve looks over at him and Eddie feels like a deer in headlights when the man gives him a sly grin. He leans on the counter, arms crossed as he presses into Eddie’s space.

"I dunno, gorgeous, how are you doing?" 

All of Eddie's higher brain function just stops as Steve speaks. It’s such a stupid response, something that anyone else might have said if asked the same question, but for some reason it makes Eddie go dumb, cheeks flooding with color and mouth dropping in shock.

Steve’s grin widens and he tips his head to the side, looking like the cat who got the fucking canary. He reaches up and grabs a curl that had fallen from the messy bun Eddie had thrown his hair into, and twists the lock around his finger as he leans even closer.

"You look so fucking good today. Drives me crazy when you wear your hair up like this, sweetheart. Puts your whole neck on display, all that pretty skin just begging to be bitten and marked up."

And yeah, Eddie's brain must be leaking out of his ears, because it’s him, it’s Eddie, the master wordsmith who always has something to say, and all he can manage to get out in response is a single, stupid sounding "Uh.”

Steve's expression shifts to something more condescending and god, Eddie is so into it when he tugs on the curl again and coos "Aw, got nothin’ to say, baby doll? Can't take what you dish out?" 

An embarrassing whine finds its way into the air between them and fuck, Eddie has to go. He needs to leave before he makes an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, because Steve is looking at Eddie like he wants to eat him and his knees feel like jello and where the fuck is Robin??

As though summoned by just a thought, Robin breezes through the shop and throws out a casual “Steve, can you stop? I need him to drive me home and he can’t do that if his brain is mush.”

Eddie glances over as she walks past them, thinks Traitor! as she leaves him at Steve’s mercy and heads outside to his van. He looks back to Steve, at those hazel eyes alight with amusement and tries to get his brain to work.

“I need- uh- Robin-” he stammers, unable to even complete a thought as Steve smirks and leans in even closer, his nose almost brushing against Eddie's when he asks, "Can I get a goodbye kiss?" 

And Eddie could never say no to Steve, especially when the other is looking at him like that. He nods dumbly, hoping he doesn't look as desperate as he feels, and there's another tug on that curl.

"I need you to use your big boy words, sweetheart," Steve says, still tinged with condescension, and Jesus fucking Christ, this whole dynamic is really doing it for Eddie, more so than he ever thought it would.

"Yes, Steve- Please-" he says, fully prepared to start begging if he has to, if he can find the words to, but he's given a bit of mercy when Steve closes the gap between them.

It feels like he’s being electrocuted, and that's all he needs for his brain to get with the program, for his hands to finally respond as they fly up and tangle in honey locks as he kisses back.

Steve groans and presses closer, his tongue bullying its way into Eddie's mouth and Eddie can feel his limbs turning into goo as Steve kisses him thoroughly, those old King skills being put to good use as he wrecks Eddie with just this.

A car horn sounds from outside the shop and Steve pulls away, smirking again at Eddie's soft whine of protest. “You better go before Robin pitches a fit.” 

Eddie nods, still dumbstruck from the last few minutes and says "I- Yeah, okay. Uh, call me? Tonight?"

Steve hums and stands up straight, and Eddie can feel his brain power returning with the little bit of distance now between them. 

“Why don’t you come over after my shift? Say, 9?” Steve asks, giving Eddie that hungry look once again, and Eddie’s breath hitches.

“Yep, yes, I can- I’ll definitely do that,” he answers, taking a few steps back and trying his best not to stumble. “I’ll, uh, see you then, Stevie.”

Steve calls out “See you later, baby doll!” as Eddie scrambles for the door, and oh god, Eddie is fucked.

[willowser]

you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

[an-au-blog]

"Surgeon Of Death" is such a serial killer name... Sun God Nika sounds like a true crime title about a murderous cult or a killer who would leave the bodies like a ritualistic sacrifice for a long forgotten god...

Can you see where this is going?

[exilethegame]

I'm writing Nikke's POV for the Patreon and I!!! Forgot how much of a shameless menace he is sometimes <3

[mihotose]

my recent playthrough i kept feeling like coffee was being mentioned Suspiciously often:

Evrart Claire - "We're not gonna give nothing. We're gonna *take* Terminal B away from them: the roads, the gates, the containers, that big crane... even the damn coffee maker. We're gonna take all of it for the people -- and *fuck* Wild Pines."

Klaasje (Miss Oranje Disco Dancer) - "Why not? I'll be here until 23.00, drinking coffee most likely..."

Rhetoric - The acrid smell of failure...

Electrochemistry - No, that's just slightly burnt coffee. A smell you would recognise anywhere.

Echo Maker - "I would commit war crimes for some real Saramirizian coffee."

and so on. so i check fayde and find this interaction telling you not everything is Something. fine i get it!!

[azul-marie]

flirtatious character intros. (various/goddess reader.) (2)

note: fem. reader. suggestive. 3rd person pov. feat. skarlet, sheeva, kabal, cassie cage, sub-zero

i could have never imagined how popular my first post in this series would be — thank you, lovely readers! it’s been very encouraging to me as someone still a bit new to the fandom. again, if there are any character inconsistencies, please let me know; i’d love to improve. enjoy!

part 1 ; part 3.

skarlet

name: what brings you to me?

skarlet: i can smell the ambrosia of your holy blood.

name: i’ve a feeling you won’t be leaving without a taste.

—

skarlet: i desire what courses through your veins.

name: it may not be what you’re accustomed to.

skarlet: blood by any other name tastes just as sweet.

—

skarlet: i desire what courses through your veins.

name: is that all you desire, skarlet?

skarlet: i would not be opposed to a kiss.

—

skarlet: do you find me repulsive, goddess?

name: your beauty speaks for itself.

skarlet: then why not share with me a taste of you?

sheeva

sheeva: does the goddess have a consort?

name: not at this time, no.

sheeva: i know a queen willing to prove herself for your hand.

—

sheeva: a goddess and a queen.

name: must we fight, your highness?

sheeva: only so that i may prove my strength.

—

name: your highness is popular amongst mortals.

sheeva: is that envy i hear in your voice, goddess?

name: respect, more like.

—

name: is it a difficult thing, having four arms?

sheeva: they each have their uses.

name: if it’s all the same to you, i’d like to know them.

kabal

kabal: goddamn.

name: something’s caught your eye?

kabal: sure, it’s a helluva view.

—

name: your speed is impressive, kabal.

kabal: if it’s you, i’m willing to make an exception.

name: don’t stop by my account, little mortal.

—

name: your speed is impressive, kabal.

kabal: my legs aren’t the only part of me that’s fast.

name: don’t be crass, young one.

—

kabal: you, me, dinner.

name: an invitation, or demand?

kabal: whatever gets you into my side of the bed, sweetcheeks.

cassie cage

cassie: wow, you are much prettier up close.

name: i could say the same about you, miss cassie.

cassie: don’t go buttering me up now, doll.

—

cassie: got a lotta guys after you, name.

name: there is no end to these suitors.

cassie: luckily for you, i’m here to show them up once and for all.

—

cassie: so is it raiden, or fujin?

name: i . . . neither, if you must know.

cassie: good. now i won’t feel bad sweeping you off your feet.

sub-zero

sub-zero: the tales are proven true.

name: and which tales might these be?

sub-zero: the ones that speak of your celestial beauty.

—

name: i can see past the coldness of your heart, kuai liang.

sub-zero: what do you see, goddess?

name: a man worthy of love.

—

sub-zero: be wary of my wayward brother, name.

name: worry not; his shadows do not corrupt me.

sub-zero: even so, your being close eases my mind.

—

name: you’re staring rather intensely.

sub-zero: merely an assessment of your power.

name: in such a case, feel free to assess all you’d like.

[emry-stars-art]

Doodles after learning the different meanings of different wax seals; according to this infographic using blue wax indicates romance or passion, the darker the blue, the stronger the feelings. Abram only has red wax (the default option) if any at all, but luckily he knows exactly who to ask when he finally learns there’s a separate proper way to seal certain sweet letters to his prince

Find the royal au masterpost here 💕

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Brainrot✨

That's all I can say. This scene has been playing in my head for a few days now, but I couldn't decide if I wanted to go with Trans!Donna for it... or Trans!Daniela...

I went with Donna and a buff gardener, buuuut I really need to write something for Daniela soon 👀

* canon divergence/slight AU

***

"Mm." Donna made a soft sound when you shifted behind her, the morning sun warm across the length of your bodies. "C-cara?"

Her voice was heavy sleep, breath steady. You leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to the base of her neck.

"Mornin'."

You'd only known the Countess' personal puppeteer for a few months now, but you'd caught her staring at your muscles from within the gardens quite a few times prior.

"Mm.. morning." She said quietly.

You moved in a little closer and pulled the dollmaker's body flush against yours - spooning her from behind. Her body soft and heavy with sleep. Warm to the touch and reminiscent of a dream. The olive green t-shirt she wore gorgeous against her skin as her ribcage rose and fell beneath it. A slight reposition to your legs allowed the tip of your strap to graze ever so slightly over the back of Donna's inner thigh, making her gasp.

"Sleep well?" You asked in a teasing tone as you kissed the side of her neck, pulling a small whimper.

"M-mhm."

"Mh.. good. Just like you."

A single trace with the tip of your tongue over her ear and her hips bucked back into you, almost forcing the toy exactly where you wanted it.

"Come on, sweet girl. Tell me how good you are."

You roamed your hands over her body - sensually, caressing. Fingertips dancing across her nipples before pulling on them gently.

"Mmph=! .. I-i'm good. So good."

Another kiss to her neck. "Damn right you are."

You allowed your hands to continue their exploration of her flesh in the morning light. Her arms wrapped lazily behind her, grabbing onto your muscles. A slightly louder whimper when your strong hands began their way further down the length of her, not even stopping when they reached the base of her cock and stroked over her womanhood.

"Ah-!"

It was the smallest of sounds, but oh so arousing. The sweet whimpers and noises that you were able to pull from the puppeteer's body never failed to leave you absolutely dripping. A slight shift to her legs to give you better access, a few more pumps to her cock as it twitched in your hand - only to use her own desire to ready the toy that hung from your hips.

"Ready?"

Your voice was husky with want - your own arousal pooling in your core when she nodded.

"Y-yes."

With the hilt pressed firmly against your clit you slowly slid the toy into her, both of you moaning as it made its way further in. Her cock still twitching in your hand as you began to thrust in, Donna's hips grinding back into you. The softness of morning adding a tender melody to your movements - slow and languid - sliding your strap into her with gentle precision. Your experienced fingers stroking over her womanhood in perfect rhythm.

"Such a good, sweet girl."

Donna could only whimper at your praise - tone cracking slightly in need. Her hips becoming more eager as she bucked them back into you, pushing the hilt of the strap deliciously over your clit every time. One hand coming to caress over her breasts from behind as the other continued a steady pump to her cock. The small room filled with nothing but the sounds of stuttered breaths and the exquisite dance of flesh against flesh. With breathy sounds of extasy rolling off tongues once built only for prayer.

But who needed the favor of high priestess' when you had this. When you had moments so perfect they could have been written by the gods. Donna's sweet sounds only growing louder as your hips picked up their pace, forcing your hand to do the same.

"S-so close." She whimpered.

Only this made you growl - softly in her ear. Her own hand coming to her cock as you moved your own to grasp onto her hips and force her back into you. Gasps of pleasure - of absolute bliss - spilling out of her unhindered. Just like the white, hot desire that spilled deliciously from her cock. Your own pleasure peaking as you continued to drive the toy deeply into her - milking every last drop out of your sweet dollmaker that you could.

***

[thinkingjasico]

MAKE👏JASON👏GRACE👏AND👏NICO👏DI👏ANGELO👏KISS

[burntblueberrywaffles]

Me and the Snowbaird discord besties coming up with 5 separate soulmate AUs

….jk it actually looks like this

Send a dm to me or @zorosnavigator for an invite to the Snowbaird and bread server! 🤭

[in-my-loki-feels]

Did I really start writing one fic, have it veer off its planned course because I couldn't bring myself to be as mean to Mobius as I originally intended, then have to start devising a spin-off of that fic because I felt bad for a particular Loki variant? sigh Yes, yes I did.

[pyrotation]

i am not immune to shipping my two favs together... hello bushfire people

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Sometimes do you ever remember the soupçon of misogyny in the press during the early (and latter) days of Joever and want to bust kneecaps lmao

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

okay. i caved

(individual versions under the cut!)

i had SO much fun rendering their skin tbh

[xdeerlybelovedx]

A wip ✨A contrast between childhood and young adult years with your overtly affectionate best friend. I have Carmeo & Promeo brain rot really bad ;; ;;