#butterscotch and fire

[hitlikehammers]

just the facts

rating: t ♥️ cw: Lady Applejack's enduring awesomeness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, steddie in their 20s, erica sinclair, steve and eddie stay local until the entire party is safely graduated, slice of life, softness, canon fact: erica coins term 'dumpster fire' for the ages, SCOOPS TROOP FOR LIFE 🍦🍨

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: Love is Co-Parenting (@shares-a-vest)

still the boys who grow into the husbands in je ne regrette rien but let’s roll back to the early 90s ♥️

“So, Stanford?”

She raises a brow around the straw in her mouth when Steve speaks and god: she’s grown up so fucking much, but that look, when Eddie glances back to the table as he listens in to their conversation: that look’s the first time he encountered the formidable half-elf a fucking lifetime ago when he was an asshole and she schooled him from the start—he should have been better prepared for the emotional whirlwind to come, at least, from there; or if nothing else, more mindful of the foreshadowing.

And he thought himself some masterful storyteller, Jesus fuck: he was both cocky and naive.

“When I go to law school it’s gonna be on the east coast, so,” she slurps noisily, unbothered, around the ice in the glass; “cover both bases.”

“Take the country by storm,” Steve nods with that warm grin that melts liquid in Eddie’s chest, every time, every day, never stopping: “very you.”

“Can’t run until I’m 35 which,” Erica shrugs, but then she flips her hair and shoots that grin that holds all the fucking secrets: “America without Erica is a travesty,” she’s got her thumb and forefinger pinched as she emphasizes the syllables hard, then snorts so derisively she might as well be the originator of the term; maybe, like, in a past life or something.

“I could run right this minute and do better than what’s there now,” she rolls her eyes and snaps her wrist decisively before stating, y’know, the obvious:

“Just the facts.”

Eddie catches Steve’s lips curl down, brow furrow as he words something out and he’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so goddamn precious, and Eddie’s heart just kinda flip-flops around to watch him like this, relaxed and soft and happy and proud and a little bit piqued by the innocuous, and they all worked damn hard to get here, but, like.

Here is incredible.

“He just got into office in January,” Steve points out, and Eddie grins as he gathers their orders and arranges on the tray for balance, loves how he wasn’t even worried for what his partner was mulling over with the crinkle in his brow, didn’t even pause to think it was something bad and that’s such a…a new normal and Eddie wants to leap into the air and whoop for the joy of it, but: kinda got his hands full.

Maybe later.

“Plenty of time to impress me, and fail to,” Erica’s scoffing in reply before she huffs: “considering the dumpster fires that preceded him.”

“The what fires?” Steve asks, eyes so big, so fucking pretty.

“I said what I said,” Erica leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and…it’s so comfortable. It’s so innocent, the whole scene, the three of them here, and Eddie loves this, he loves them, he’s just…

It’s a life he never imagined, y’know? It’s a reality he didn’t even factor in when spinning the wheel of possibility in his head, and yes, okay, they went through hell for it, he almost died for it, but he found a family in it; he found the love of his life in it—on balance there’s no fucking question as to where he landed so far toward the good that ‘good’ seems kinda insultingly inadequate as a descriptor at all.

He needs to think up a better word, for sure.

“M’lady,” Eddie bows as he unloads the tray when he gets back to the table, presenting Erica’s five-scoop tower of ice cream with a flourish: “many effusive congratulations to you,” he settles the bowl in front of her and leans to drum his fingers on the cap with the floofy tassel they’d badgered her to bring for photos; “on to new adventures far afoot,” Eddie continues, unloading Steve’s banana split—a true treat more for Eddie to watch him eat than for Steve to taste himself, because fucking hell—and then his own hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream topped higher than the fucking glass, before he plops down next to Steve, the pair of them side-by-side across from Erica in the booth as he grins at her, because shit: he’s fucking proud, too:

“The denizens of Palo Alto will stand in awe of your grandeur,” he gestures with extra grandiosity with his spoon before he grabs the cherry, glances around for safety before offering it straight to Steve’s mouth, pulling the stem out teasingly when Steve bites and hiding the full stretch of his smile behind a big shovel-full of chocolatey-flakes on the whip.

And he and Steve are quiet, but don’t really dive in because they’re watching, waiting: Erica rolls her eyes at their antics, even if they were subtle, and goes for a bite herself, and okay, moment of truth—

Her eyes speak for her again, then, but to get very, very big as she stills, then slowly takes the spoon from her mouth and pins them with a stare:

“This is,” her mouth works around a whole lot of silence as she stares at her perfect quintuple-scoop array, because it’s all one flavor. And it’s all a flavor she mostly ragged on for being annoyingly on-brand that first summer, Eddie’s heard the stories, but still asked for extra samples of it every goddamn time, to when he and Steve had both been talked more than once to drive out to the nearest location and ‘fulfill the contract’ sworn that fateful July, a task that got more difficult every year as the chain thinned its numbers, until there weren’t any on this side of the state, then none on this side of the border, then just: none in the Midwest, period, and Erica?

She could try to hide it all she wanted, but she was sad. Because that girl had a favorite. And this, here?

Fucking U.S.S. Butterscotch? Hell yeah, it is.

“Called in a favor,” which Steve probably means to sound like he leveraged Eddie’s currently less-than-moderate celebrity or something, but what actually means he charmed the minimum wage high schooler in Portland, because Scoops Ahoy was out West now, and only had about 10 locations left—but he’d convinced the kid to let him buy a whole gallon, paid a premium for cold storage shipping, and then bribed the owner here with ample documentation of proper product preservation and transfer prior to sale, plus a couple crisp Benjamins, to convince the guy to sell it for one day, only to Steve and his guests—given it was a licensed product the parlor wasn’t a retailer for. The favor was the real power behind what passed for the Harrington charm for all those years and it was simply genuine and full-bodied Steve: charming, god yes, charming as fuck but good and kind and earnest and determined, pushy and snarky but more often wielded for the benefit of others than for himself—not to mention persuasive with those puppy-dog eyes.

Because, like, fuck: all these years and Eddie’s still weak for those goddamn eyes.

He lets himself stare at Steve and just, take him in for a little while until Steve feels his gaze—doesn’t take long, they’re aware of each other as a default mods—and lifts those impossible eyes for Eddie to drown in and feel warm inside his veins when they light up for the smile Steve flashes his way.

Fuck, but Eddie loves him.

“When are you coming to visit, then?” Erica breaks the spell; licks her spoon clean before aiming it at them pointedly. They glance at each other—she kinda means the world to them, they’ve grown close with her especially once all the other kids skedaddled, and Eddie thinks he’s not…he’s not surprised, and he thinks he knew she’d want them to visit. He thinks Steve knew that, too.

But he knows, like he knows his own heartbeat and Steve’s even better: Eddie knows Steve feels just as warm and touched and like, fucking moved a little by how she treats it like a given.

“When do you want us there?” Steve asks and yeah, he’s smooth about it, composed and shit, but Eddie knows his voice inside-out and backward. He can hear the emotion stayed back underneath.

“When are you planning to move?”

They don’t even really pause at the way she knows without them saying; she’s the only person who hasn’t outright suggested they get the fuck out of Hawkins, finally. Kinda like they never had to say they were staying until all of their family was accounted for and on their way in the world, safe and sound and whole.

“Nothing’s in stone, yet,” Steve offers, poking Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But you’re looking,” Erica, again, already knows; doesn’t pose it as a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles down at his sundae, and links his hand with Steve between them on the seat; “we’re thinking Chi-town,” because that’s been the front-runner for a while, now, of the cities they’ve considered. Because it doesn’t even have to be forever, they don’t have to commit to a place and never leave—because the only forever-thing in all of this, in anything, is them. Just Steve and Eddie, them two: together.

Wherever they end up.

“Mmm,” Erica considers before scooping another spoon of mostly-butterscotch swirl: “I can see that.”

“You can, can you?” Steve volleys with a smirk, and she lets him goad her into laying out how she knows them, how she sees them, because…it’s maybe strange but then maybe not but it’s always felt special, with her. Maybe because she’s grown up more than any of them, for Steve and Eddie to watch. Maybe because she’s so goddamn smart, that her observations come out near-unchallengable.

Maybe because they both know she loves them, and she knows they love her, and it’s never been…awkward, like it had been in spots with the shitheads over time. It was just understood.

“Big but not huge,” Erica ticks off the reasons for her assessment; “music scene’s decent,” she nods to Eddie, who nods back gracious; “good schools,” she leans to Steve, and yep, that was a huge factor, whether Steve could love his job; “liberal…ish,” she eyes them, and how close they sit, meaningfully before tacking on: “familiar weather.”

Steve huffs a little laugh and Eddie just beams at her: not a single thing wrong there. She’s got them dead to rights, and he kinda loves that about her; so much.

“Semester ends first week of December,” she focuses back on her bowl and speaks with authority, like whatever she’s proposing isn’t a suggestion, just a notice: “if you guys are still here,” she shakes the full spoon in her hand and raises an eyebrow: “I expect ice cream.”

Steve just nods as she pops the spoonful in her mouth whole-on.

“Scoops Troop for life,” he agrees and Eddie perks, always ready when that label pops up.

“Plus honorary trooper,” he chimes in, and Erika grins around her spoon a little as Steve leans close and can’t kiss him here, but Eddie knows well what it means to feel Steve’s breath against the line of his neck like he’s jest stretching past him, like it could be innocent as Steve murmurs low—

“Always.”

And can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and the flutter in his chest, because…because he’s in love, goddamnit, and it’s been one of the most incredible surprises to learn that he can love so big, and get love so big back in kind, that the feeling never fades, he can always feel weightless and boneless and overwhelmed in the best of ways for just this man near to him, just the pitch of his voice and the promise of his breath on Eddie’s skin.

“You’re cute,” Erika says, the judgement in her tone tempered low as her lips still quirk; “and this is delicious,” she points her spoon again at the remaining ice cream and the tiny puddle it’s melting between the remaining scoops. “So I’ll allow it,” she nods to their pressed-together shoulders and goes back to eating, but never loses the tiny grin and he and Steve both know how much that means, from her.

“But if you’re already there,” she continues when she starts collecting the saucer bits at the base of the bowl: “Chicago’s a decent layover spot, probably,” she shrugs; “but still, here or there,” and she pauses with intention before narrowing her eyes with intention:

“Ice cream.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[sammywolfgirl]

Tupper shinanigins but it’s semi themed around dragons??

Also timekeeper being a brat is my favorite joke thing

[wonderinc-sonic]

wait silver is awakening would be so fun tbh. plus he'll be 2 for 2 on knowing princesses voiced by laura bailey

Honestly I am a big fan of fire emblem aesthetics, and we already have black knight - it's not a bad fit! I know fe3h better (I haven't finished engage because I can't choose what units to drop and never sit down to play and sort it out ;P)

Silver is a mage ofc, he will just have to be a gremory and wear a dress because everyone deserves grem.

Shadow Mortal Savant? Maybe dark knight?

I guess Sonic's gotta be a swordy boy, and they are fast at least!

Obvs we are giving Knuckles the gauntlets, I feel like Tails should be a flying archer of some kind - can we let him? And Amy is Hilda in Axe prowess and general cute vibe.

Medieval magic settings my belovedddddd

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[jo-harrington]

On-the-Job Training (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve has a crush on the Dippin' Dots cashier.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Late Summer of 1985, Steve and Robin work at Scoops, Reader works at Dippin' Dots, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Enemies to Lovers(sort of?), Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: Ok what started off as a silly little conversation about what flavor chapstick each ST character would use turned into this and I typically don't write Steve...but I had to give him some love.

Tagging my loves who were integral to that convo to thank them for inspiration especially Drac who started it all. This is for you bb. @dr-aculaaa @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @somnambulic-thing @fracturedarkness @br0ck-eddie

Technically slightly anachronistic because Dippin' Dots didn't open until 1988 but I'm a stickler for accuracy in the regular series. This is just a fun little do-dad.

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Largely unedited; I didn't even re-read it. It's might suck. Enjoy!

---

"Ahoy! One U.S.S. Butterscotch!"

Steve never thought that this would be his future after graduation.

This summer he should have been living it up before he went away to college and made something of himself. Lifeguarding at the pool, going to all the parties, hanging out with his friends.

Instead, his life went to shit, Nancy Wheeler had broken up with him, he had gotten rejection letter after rejection letter from the schools he had applied to...and instead of working at the pool like he had every summer since he turned 16, he had a crappy job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy of all places at the new StarCourt Mall.

"Thanks so much," the sweet lady who had placed the order smiled at him and handed the sundae to her son. "Look at that Frankie, your favorite." The little boy shot Steve a grin complete with his two front teeth missing and Steve melted a little bit.

Alright, it wasn't so bad. He got to make people smile, he got some spending money--which was nice since his dad had pretty much cut him off, although his mom was sneaking him some cash on the side.

"Look alive dingus," Robin called from the window separating the front of the ice cream parlor from the backroom. "Your schmoopsie poo is here."

"Shut up Rob!" Steve groaned through gritted teeth.

One of the perks of working at the mall was that he got to interact with people of all shapes and sizes and yeah...Steve had tried to use it as a means to get over Nancy. He'd had little hours-long crushes on fellow mall employees, customers, Robin--although working with her made that difficult--hell there was even a manager that had caught his eye towards the beginning of summer except he'd seen Eddie "The Freak" Munson of all people hanging around her.

Although after a few months of seeing Eddie around StarCourt not being a wastoid menace, Steve had to admit...well he wasn't that bad either.

The one who'd caught his eye the most though was you, and yeah...he'd developed an actual big little long-lasting crush.

You, who came around for a root-beer float most afternoons.

You, whose smile made his heart skip a little.

You in your pink polo, teal apron, and white visor with the words Dippin' Dots emblazoned on the front.

The enemy.

And you never let him forget it either.

Steve had been heart eyes over you the first time you had entered into Scoops territory to order your float. Undercover in casual summer clothes a week after the mall had opened. There was just something about you, your smile, your laugh.

Robin teased that he said that about everyone; Steve ignored her.

Then you opened your mouth and said the float was good but the service could have been better. That Steve should stop by Dippin' Dots sometime and see how it was really done.

Shots fired.

It really hurt at first. This was his first real job outside of the community pool, one he had been excited to get. He was really nice, tried his best; why didn't you think so?

"It's called flirting," Robin insisted. "God, you really suck, you know that? How can you ask people out willy nilly and then miss someone flirting with you right in front of your face? Flirt back next time."

So he did.

Every so often he'd mosey across the mall to your kiosk, order a small vanilla cup, and throw a little insult of his own your way. Usually something about how tiny balls of ice cream could never beat an actual scoop. Or about how you didn't count his change the right way, or that your visor was on crooked.

You wouldn't hesitate to get your own comment in. Especially about his choice in flavor.

"You work at an ice cream parlor and you order vanilla?" you questioned. "A hundred flavors to choose from at scoops; do you only get vanilla there too? Vanilla...is good but when you have variety? Order something exciting one day, and then we can talk business, Stevie."

Oof, it steamed him.

But not enough to stop playing the game.

And it left you both grinning so who was he to end the fun.

So when you showed up at Scoops today after not being around for a few days and your smile didn't reach your eyes like it usually did...Steve was suddenly overcome with...well he didn't really know.

"Ahoy, uh, sailor," he greeted and tried to put on his biggest award-winning, tip-earning smile.

"Ahoy," you replied weakly.

"Root beer float?" he asked, already heading over to the case to start scooping ice cream into a cup.

"Uh," you hesitated. "No, just...just a small vanilla cup today."

Steve froze and looked at you. Your shoulders were slumped, you had your visor in your hand, and you were pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

What was...what was wrong with you?

Where was your fight? Where was your fire? Why, all of a sudden, was your game over?

"Hey, uhm," he coughed awkwardly. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, Steve," you nodded absently.

"You always get root beer."

"I just want vanilla today."

"The special is salted caramel? I can give you a sample if you're--"

"No, I just want vanilla," you cut him off and rolled your eyes. "You always get vanilla. Why is it a problem if I suddenly do? Vanilla is good too. Maybe vanilla is just...what we both want ok? Nothing else."

He was shocked. That wasn't playful annoyance in your voice; you were just...annoyed.

"Sure," he agreed. "Sure. One small vanilla coming right up."

He got your ice cream and rang you out, and as you were about to leave, he called after you.

"See you in a little while?" he asked.

"If you want." You waved goodbye and headed out of the ice cream parlor.

Steve turned and looked at Robin who simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"You're hopeless," she sighed and slammed the shutters on the window closed.

---

Steve roamed around the mall on his break.

Typically, he'd make his way to Dippin' Dots but...that just seemed like a waste of time today.

He'd fixated on your visit for the rest of his shift until his break, analyzing everything he said, everything he did. Everything that could have made you mad at him.

Once he got Robin out of her hiding spot in the back room, he monologued all of his thoughts to her.

She watched him pace back and forth, called him a dingus a few times, a loser a few other times, and then finally sent him on his break with some last words.

"I know you're hearing everything they're saying Steve," she began. "But are you really listening? You just keep...ordering vanilla."

"Uh. Yeah. That's the game."

"It's not a game you...ughhhhh! GO!" She pointed to the exit. "Before I throttle you."

Why couldn't she just tell him? What had he done?

In his rumination, he'd been chewing at his lips. A habit he had pretty much done his entire life when he got nervous.

Shit, and he'd left his chapstick in the car; it was hot, it probably melted by now.

That was one of the little ways you made his life a little better...through your teasing. You had told him, once, that his lips looked dry.

"Maybe invest in some chapstick or something."

He'd gone to Melvald's that same night that you told him and got a 3-pack of strawberry chapstick. All the while wondering if it meant you had been looking at his lips for a while or...

But it was...just another little jab right? Another little flirt? Another part of your game?

Still, he never knew when you might show up so the chapstick became a constant--something that soothed him even, gave him courage--and he always had a tube tucked into the pocket of his shorts, or on the register, or in the cupholder of his car. To swipe on if he knew he was about to see you...or hoped he was.

And now...he desperately needed it, needed his strawberry chapstick--needed you--and it was nowhere to be found.

Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at the stores around him.

WaldenBooks, Regis Salon, JH Camera Repair.

Claires.

Bingo.

He'd seen little kids with their play makeup and sparkly plastic jewelry post up in one of the booths at Scoops after they spent their allowance money at Claire's. He had to find strawberry chapstick there. He'd even take cherry. Something.

Anything.

Steve crossed into the pink-and-purple-and-pop-music-filled oasis to a melodic "Welcome In" from the employee helping a little girl by the ear piercing booth. And as out of place as he felt, he was immediately relieved to see a wall full of eyeshadow palettes and glitter hairspray.

He closed the distance and frantically searched the wall, but it was all novelty makeup. There was one package of Dr. Pepper lip smackers, but the package was half-ripped and the cap was missing; he was a little worried but he figured it was better than nothing.

He was about to snatch it off the hook when that voice sounded behind him.

"Did you need help finding anything?" He immediately turned on his heel to find the employee--the manager, Eddie Munson's girlfriend--standing there in a flourish of tulle and fluorescent colors. "Oh! That's a customer favorite...looks like it's damaged though, let me just..."

She reached out to take the package but Steve reacted instinctually. He quickly grabbed it and clutched it to his chest.

"I don't mind," he tried to reason. "I don't care if it's missing the cap."

"Listen, I can't sell it to you if it's damaged," the manager explained. "It's just not safe. Is there anything else I can help you find though?"

She reached for the package again but he held it back.

"I need this," Steve tried again.

"Oh...kay."

"Because I messed up and this...you know the cashier down at the Dippin' Dots kiosk? Well...I don't know...I pissed them off or something and I just need to...go down and talk to them and I can't."

"So the lip balm is a gift for them? To make amends?"

"No...it's for me because my lips are dry." Steve sighed. "I...ok I know it sounds crazy, but I swear. It's...they got me to start using chapstick because they said my lips were dry and it's this thing we do. We go back and forth and we tease each other.

"But they're mad at me now, and they didn't...I mean they ordered vanilla. They never order vanilla. They hate it when I order vanilla."

"Uh huh." The manager's eyes went a little soft. "I'm not...really following the logic...but I get it."

"You do?"

"You like each other. But you're just...going back and forth. And no one has really...admitted it," she observed. She suddenly burst into laughter and Steve cocked his head to one side in confusion. "Sorry, sorry...it's just...whatafuckincoincidence.

"So are you the one who's afraid of being rejected? Or...are they...or..."

Cue the record scratch in Steve's head.

Rejection.

All summer...all year actually...Steve had been faced with one rejection after another. First Nancy, then all of the college applications, his dad and now...all of the little fleeting mall crushes that he'd asked out that had said no.

Robin had even made a scoreboard that sat in the back whenever someone turned him down.

He thought all this time...he'd become immune to it. But with you...it was easier to think it was just a game than to possibly face the reality that if he asked you out...you'd say no and then the little game would be ruined. And his hopes would be dashed.

He didn't realize that all of his waffling could potentially be hurting you too.

"Why don't you," the manager continued when Steve hesitated to answer, "go down there and talk to them? Even if they're mad at you. Communication is very important. I'm sure if you explain everything, or even...just show that you're willing to bridge the gap, they'd be willing to listen. The worst they could say is no, but if they're already mad, you have nothing to lose. See if they'll give you a chance."

"So I...shouldn't order vanilla this time?" He looked up at her and asked, recalling your words.

Order something exciting, and then we can talk business.

The door had been open for him to ask you out this whole time.

And that's why you ordered vanilla earlier. Because Vanilla meant...meant that this...flirtation...this game...wasn't going anywhere. He hadn't made a move, so you didn't want to wait anymore.

God, he was so stupid.

"Uh, no...don't do that," the manager smiled kindly. She reached out for the broken lip balm and took it from him. "I'll just...damage this out."

"Wait...but my lips are still dry," Steve floundered. "I still need chapstick."

"Do you think there's gonna be some kissing happening?" the manager's eyes narrowed. "I said talk to them, not...plant one on them."

"I just need...something," he begged. "Strawberry...if you have it."

"I think we have strawberry flavored lip gloss by the register."

"I'll take it."

---

So there Steve was, in the concourse by JCPenney, patiently waiting in the line for Dippin' Dots with sticky, strawberry-flavored lips tinted a very nice shade of pink.

As soon as he had swiped the gloss on...as silly as he had felt...he had been reminded of you.

"Next!" your voice sounded every so often and the line got shorter and shorter, and Steve's courage got weaker and weaker. The Claire's manager had been right though...communication...the worst you could tell Steve was "no."

"Next!" You'd be just another tally on Robin's scoreboard. And she could call him a dingus again. She really enjoyed doing that. So some good would at least come from his failure.

"Next!" He'd also get...a cup of Dippin' Dots which...if he had to admit, he kinda enjoyed. He got all the Scoops ice cream he wanted for free but this was different. Ice Cream of the Future and all that. He sort of expected Henderson to come up with something like this, the little nerd; well, if he could never show his face here again, he'd ask the kids if they could figure out how to make some kind of futuristic ice cream for him.

"Ne--oh!" Steve finally got to the front of the line and saw your shocked face. He smiled and waved as he approached the register.

"Hey," he greeted. "I told you I'd see you around."

"You did," you said flatly and scrunched your nose. "So...the usual? Small vanilla cup?"

"Uh no..." Steve said hesitantly. You raised an eyebrow in question. "I uh...can I get a large..."

"Large vanilla?" You sniffed.

"Large Rainbow Ice," he recited after squinting at the menu board. "It's time for something new."

You stared at him silently and Steve couldn't help but doubt himself.

What if Rainbow Ice was the wrong answer? Should he have gone with Banana Split? Shit he should have just stuck with Strawberry. It was his favorite. Strawberry chapstick, strawberry gloss, strawberry ice cream. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Yeah," you finally answered with a beaming smile and Steve's heart soared. "Yeah it is time for something new, isn't it?"

Next Part: Incremental Planning

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 ao3 (Complete)

He has strange dreams.

Sometimes they’re not so bad. Sometimes he can hear Eddie’s voice encouraging him, “Yeah, there you go. That’s it, Steve, just keep breathing.”

Sometimes Eddie sounds strange, too, like he’s laughing and crying at the same time—muttering unsteadily, “C-come on, up you go. Shit, shit, shit. You’ve gotta help me out here, Steve.”

But then he’s flying, falling through darkness, and everything turns awful.

Fire. Flames all over his skin, burning, burning, and he has to kick, strike out, get away, but someone’s pinning him down—

“Y-you’ve gotta stay still. Wheeler, Wheeler, his leg, watch his—hey, Steve, shh, shh, just stop moving, man, please.”

Make it stop make it stop stop STOP STOP—

“Shh, shh, I know, I know. Take my hand, hey, you can break it, fucking go for it, man, I don’t care.”

Please I just want it to stop please please please just let me—

“Hey, hey, hey, you can’t go to sleep right now, okay? Just a little longer, Steve, we’re getting you some help, you’ve just gotta keep your eyes—”

It’s too much too much too much, just want it to end, I want I want—

“One more minute, Steve, you hear me? I’ll count, and then—you’re gonna be all right, this time it’ll be—”

YOU’RE LYING—

One last flash of lucidity.

Eddie. Eddie’s hand in his hair, Eddie’s lips against his temple, wet with tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-so—God, just. Please.”

-

Another dream.

A new voice. Makes him think of summer, and butterscotch ice-cream, and laughter.

“Hi, Steve. Got a present for you, so you—you’d better, um… God, you’d find this so damn f-funny, wouldn’t you? Guess it’s more proof we’re from the same womb, huh? Ugh, gross image, Rob, thanks. Sorry. Just thought I’d say it for you.”

Don’t cry, Robin. It’s okay. Don’t cry.

-

“Eddie.”

“What? Is Buckley okay? Wheeler.”

“Yeah, she’s—she’s fine. It’s—they said—”

“Oh God.”

“—it might not work.”

A strangled, pained noise. Footsteps. A door slamming.

Where are you going? Come back. Come back.

-

Sleep. Drift. Try to wake. Sleep.

-

He dreams of fire.

Fire.

Fire.

Fire fire fire stop STOP—

Hand pressing down on his forehead, cold, cold, but he’s much too hot, he’s going to burn up, he can’t—he’s going to die, he’s dead already, it’s too much, it’s—

“Steve, Steve, just try and—hey, it’s just me, you’re okay, you’ve just gotta—oh Christ, please, Steve, just lie back. I know it’s hard, I know, I know.”

The scratch of a needle.

DANGER, GET AWAY, GET—

“Stop, stop! You’re hurting him, don’t you get it, you’re—”

-

A hand in his. Cold metal. Rings.

EddieEddieEddie

“Oh, holy shit.” Shocked laughter, breathless with relief. “That’s it, Steve, that’s it. Break my fucking fingers, dude, I dare you.”

Everything slips…

-

The fire goes out. Cold sweat. Shivering.

Lips on his temple. A kiss.

“You did it. You fucking did it, Steve, you’re amazing, you’re—that’s it, sweetheart, just breathe. Rest now. I’ve got you. Shh, I’ve got you.”

-

Sleep.

-

“Everyone’s fine, by the way. …God, it was fucking terrifying me, saying that out loud, y’know? Like I’d jinx it, or… Then I started thinking that you made a deal or something. Was the only way it made sense. Like, what are the odds that everyone else made it, and… Even me, man, thought I was a goner for… So I —I kinda pretended you’d made a trade, with God or the Devil or—I don’t know. Your life for… Wouldn’t put it past you. But that’s—that’s bullshit, okay? They… they don’t need saving anymore, Steve. They just need you.”

-

Wake.

Eyes too heavy to…

“Hey, hey, you’re good. Take it easy.”

Tongue slow. Throat scraped raw. Swallow.

Try.

“D’st’n. Dust…”

“Shh. Dustin’s just fine, Steve. Promised you, didn’t I?”

“H-hurt?”

“Nah, man. Not anymore.”

“You?”

“…Me?”

“Hurt?”

“Oh. I’m—I’m good, Steve. You sleep some more, ‘kay? You’ll feel better.”

Hand in his.

Gentle.

Safe.

Sleep.

-

Waking up properly is a slow, taxing thing. Eventually he blinks leaden eyelids open. Sees his left hand, lying limp: palm covered with gauze so only his fingers are really visible.

Footsteps, pacing the room. Back and forth, back and forth.

Eddie.

Steve wets his cracked lips and says the only thing he can.

“Dustin?”

Eddie freezes. Glances over. Lets out a shaky kind of scoff.

“He’s safe. D’you know how many times you’ve asked me that, Harrington?”

Steve tries to straighten up. Humours him.

“I dunno, twice?”

Eddie makes a noise imitating a klaxon, like Steve’s just got an answer wrong on a quiz show.

“Nope! Lost count after ten.”

Then Eddie looks at him, really looks at him, and he somehow gets even more still, as if he’s suddenly holding his breath.

“You’re—you’re back,” he says. “Can see it in your eyes. You’re really… fuck.”

He starts pacing again, his spine a rigid line of tension. Steve follows his every move, even though his eyes start to ache with the effort.

“You’re angry,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shakes his head, breathes out a laugh through clenched teeth. “Yeah. Guess you could say that.”

He comes to an abrupt stop at the foot of the bed—a hospital bed, Steve realises, as one of Eddie’s hands grips the bottom rail, like he needs it to keep standing.

“This much,” Eddie says conversationally, and he shows his thumb and forefinger with barely any space between them.

“What?”

“That’s how close Henderson’s bite was to the femoral artery. Twenty seconds more? Hell, ten seconds? Those damn bats would’ve kept coming, and at least one of them would’ve fucking struck gold ‘cause I couldn’t fucking shield him properly in the goddamn first place, and he would’ve bled out in my arms. So yeah, Steve. I’m angry.”

“But that.” Steve frowns, hopes that he sounds understanding. Gentle. “That didn’t happen, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs again. He looks down, hair hanging so that Steve can’t see his face; he can see his knuckles on the bed frame though, turning white.

“I’m angry ‘cause you were right.” Eddie sucks in a breath, and when he raises his head, his eyes are burning. “I hate that you were right.”

“I don’t—”

“If you hadn’t done—done what you did.” Eddie falters, takes another breath. “Dustin would’ve died. I would’ve died. And I’m angry, I’m so fucking angry that that probably justifies it all for you.”

Steve sighs. “Justifies what?” he asks, though he suspects he already knows.

“That a world without you is any way fucking acceptable.”

Steve resists the urge to sigh again. “Eddie,” he says, tries to sound as matter-of-fact as he can without being a dick about it. “Look, man, I know you’re new to the whole—everything—but sometimes, things happen. People can get hurt, and—”

“No,” Eddie says. “No, you don’t get to do that. Don’t play that card. Yeah, I know I’m a fucking newborn to the whole alternate dimension shtick, but hey, the one thing I can say about myself is that I catch on pretty fucking quick.” He points at Steve, sharp and accusatory. “And I know if anyone else tried to pull the shit that y-you just—you would’ve stopped it in a heartbeat. I know you would have. So. Why?”

For a moment, Steve has to look away. He has the horrible feeling, suddenly, that Eddie’s eyes can see right through him. “Why what?”

“Why are you so determined that it has to be you?”

Steve swallows. He doesn’t know how to put it into words; doesn’t know how to say that his mind has played every scenario on a loop throughout the very worst of nights. That the thought of anyone else dying turns his world into static, the horror far too much to process. That, in comparison, the fear of his own death seems small. Trivial.

So instead, he looks Eddie right in the eye, because the guy deserves that, at least.

“Anyone else wasn’t an option,” Steve gets out.

He means for it to sound strong, determined, but he doesn’t think he succeeds, because Eddie’s eyebrows furrow like he can hear the fear in the words.

“And if—if it had to come down to it,” Steve continues, “I’d rather it—I’d—Dustin, he. He would’ve had you, and—”

Eddie laughs yet again, and it’s tipping into something hysterical. He presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” Steve returns.

Eddie drops his hands. “I’ve barely known Dustin a year, man! And what am I even—I’m just the leader of his glorified fucking after-school club, I’m not—”

“Eddie, come on. You know you’re more than that.”

So much more.

But Eddie is shaking his head again. “Don’t you get it?” he says faintly. “Don’t you get how irreplaceable you are? Dustin, he—when I left him with the girls, he kept crying out for you. He was in pain, he was scared, and he wanted you. Yeah, he might think I’m the cool weirdo at high school, fucking whatever, but you—you’re his family.”

Steve abruptly finds a spot in the ceiling, blinks back the stinging in his eyes. “You gonna—” He clears his throat. “You gonna sit down?”

Eddie answers by scraping a chair along the floor until he throws himself into it, knees almost touching the side of Steve’s bed.

“I really hate blood, you know?” Eddie says, after a long silence. “Like, there was a biology lesson where… it was a dissection, the teacher was demonstrating, she’d barely made a cut with that scalpel thingy and I just…” He claps his hands together. “Fainted dead away. It was so embarrassing. Was almost glad when the Satan rumours started, at least it was a distraction from…”

A pause. Eddie leans forward.

“But with you… when we got you—in the ambulance, and—I watched everything. I didn’t look away, not for a second. Not for one fucking second.”

Steve exhales. “Why?”

“So I could say they didn’t just call it. That they tried, at least. That they fucking fought for you. ‘Cause that’s what we all were doing, we—we weren’t letting you go just like that. You shoulda seen Wheeler, man, thought she was gonna murder the docs with just one look. And Buckley, she—” A flicker of emotion passes across Eddie’s face. “You know you two have the same blood type?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, then thinks it’s no wonder he survived, with Robin’s strength now flowing in his veins.

“Even that was touch-and-go for a while.” Eddie rubs a hand down his face, looks thoroughly exhausted. “Like, Dustin was feverish for a bit, and they reckon I’d already puked it up, but you—there were some white-coats who knew about… and they thought. That. That there was so much venom in you from those bats that you’d… your body would reject Robin’s blood.” He bows his head. “For a while, I thought… I thought…”

Steve puts all his effort into lifting his hand. Manages to reach the top of Eddie’s head, fingers curling weakly into his hair.

“Eddie, I’m—I’m sorry.”

It’s not enough; he knows it’s not enough. But it’s all he has.

Eddie gently removes Steve’s hand. Uncurls Steve’s fingers, like he’s seeing them for the very first time.

“This one was the worst,” he whispers. “Throughout all of it.” He stares down at the palm covered in gauze, and his eyes fill with tears. “Because when you—when you brought out the knife, that’s. That’s when I knew for sure. What you were gonna—” His voice breaks.

Steve doesn’t know how to make this better. Thinks that he’d settle for making Eddie smile. That would be worth something. Everything.

“I meant it, y’know. Wasn’t just the blood loss talking.”

Eddie sniffs. “Meant what?”

“That you’re beautiful.” Eddie chuckles. One tear falls down his cheek. He doesn’t wipe it away. “Nah. When you said that, I was like oh, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“Don’t think that was it.” Steve gathers the last of his bravery. “Think I just—didn’t wanna die with it going unsaid.”

Eddie makes a noise, a pained mixture of a gasp, sob and laugh.

“I thought you were… beautiful, t-too,” he says through uneven, stuttering breaths.

Steve makes a face of distaste to get him to laugh again; it works, except for the fact that he also starts to sob even more.

“Yeah, bet I was a pretty picture.”

“Steve. I mean it. You—you were looking down at Dustin, I saw you, and I just. You looked so… so fucking devoted, you were glowing with it. I think.” His voice turns tearful again. “I think I knew even then. I just remember—remember thinking oh God, he—he loves so damn much that he’s gonna die for it.”

He puts a hand over his eyes. Weeps.

Steve’s heart shatters.

“But I didn’t,” he murmurs. “Eddie, hey. I didn’t. I’m still here.”

He lifts his hand again, reaches for him. Very clumsily touches his cheek, until Eddie jerks back with a muttered, “I’m gonna get your bandages wet.”

“Guess I’ll just have to kiss you instead,” Steve replies—and ordinarily that level of boldness might have shocked him, but fuck it; he’s been through enough that the nerves barely register. Can only really feel a sudden wave of exhaustion, anyway.

Eddie snorts—seems to be so taken aback that he stops crying. “Was that a fucking line? In a hospital bed, no less? You have zero shame, Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiles, suppressing a yawn. “Did it work?”

Eddie smiles back. Tears still shine on his face. He pauses, then says, “One,” lifting up a finger like he’s haggling. “Then I’d better go tell someone you woke up.”

“Deal.”

And Steve is quickly becoming too tired to do much in the way of responding, so that the whole thing ends up being just a brief press of lips against one another. Even then, it’s the best. Because Eddie’s lips are warm, and all Steve can taste is the salt of his tears. No blood.

Eddie draws back just a little, gives one last lingering peck. Then he moves away.

Steve’s eyes are delayed in opening; when he manages it, he sees Eddie giving him a tender smile.

“Oh, it was a goodnight kiss, I see,” Eddie teases.

“Mm-hmm.”

Eddie leans forward again, this time to kiss Steve’s forehead. It makes Steve’s eyes close instinctively, and then he can’t seem to open them again.

Eddie chuckles. Sighs. “You’re fading, sweetheart. Gonna go fetch a doctor, then I’ll be right back. Promise.”

“Mm. Trust you.”

Trust you with everything.

He hears Eddie standing up, pushing the chair aside—everything muffled, but softly so. Not frightening. Not anymore.

As Steve drifts off, his last thought is that Eddie had been right; he would’ve died for love.

But now…

Now he’d like to try living for it.

[palmtreesx3]

Season 1 Steve smells like chlorine and a twinge of cigarettes. He smells like a fresh shower after practice, spearmint gum and just-done laundry. He smells like light dusting of aerosol from his hairspray. He smells like just a touch of Ralph Lauren Polo - all bergamot and cedar and mossy - because his dad bought it for him and told him real men where cologne. He smells like hints of leather, because Harrington's only wear the real stuff. Tucking your nose into his neck smells like a boy trying to be a man, it smells safe and comfortable but a little daring. A little boy next door, but a little trouble all at once.

Season 2 Steve smells like a bit of leather and musk following him around after gym or basketball practice. There's the lingering soft and delicate floral notes of Nancy Wheelers perfume., but that's all quickly overpowered by the nutty, honey scent of his shampoo. He still smells like laundry, clean and crisp. Like fresh air and a fall breeze and a boy who likes to sit outside and think about what comes next. He smells like apple cider and nutmeg and a bonfire before the homecoming football game. He smells woodsy and grassy from his climb up the tall oak tree to get through your window and he smells like pencil shavings and the textbooks he's carrying around trying too hard too late to make something of himself.

Season 3 Steve smells like sweet vanilla bean and with undertones of disinfectant from scrubbing the dishes at Scoops at the end of his shift. It's all cherry chapstick on his lips, making things sweet. He smells like fruity popsicles and there's a buttery scent of popcorn on his jacket that he just can't shake from all his dates at the movie theater. He smells like root beer floats and fresh cut grass and the wildflowers he tucks behind your ears by the lake. He smells a bit like what you would expect sunshine feels like, on a warm summer day by the pool and when he leans in close, you just know he'll taste like butterscotch if you kiss because you already smell it on his tongue.

Season 4 Steve Smells like cherry rope candy and that Family Video vest permanently smelling of Calvin Klein Obsession for Men, all lavender and a little spice. He carries around the faintest smell of crisp apples and peach and maybe a little patchouli - Robin's perfume and shampoo clinging to him from their morning car rides and counteracting the waxy smell of 100 rewound VHS tapes. He smells warm, like a flickering fall fire might feel, and a bit like the coffee he's taken up drinking between dropping Robin off at school and the start of his shift. He smells less put together than before, but more natural, like the cedarwood candle he burns in the living room when you come over and he tries to impress you and the fresh linen smell of his sheets.

[sintiva]

lust so pure..// priest!eren x blackfem!reader

summary: the neighborhood priest also happens to be the neighborhood pervert, but solely for you

contents & warnings: chubby reader, eren is a fucking pervert, kinda stalker themes (?)), suggestive content, male masturbation, mentions of corruption

notes: this is the prologue (for better lack of terms) to a full fic

priest!eren who creeps on you while you're gardening early in the morning. 5:30 am — sharp. your tits are out your ass is out and he can see your pussy print from your shorts. you would think he’s a fucking vampire the way he keeps his house dark. the yellow light from his bathroom floods his room, and a butterscotch candle that you gifted him, sits atop his dresser. the fire from the candle flickers against the muscles of his back, and it makes him hot. but it’s not the only thing that’s got him steaming.as he fiddles with his vest in his hands, his back is bare and he’s focusing on you gardening; pulling weeds, and digging the soil as you transfer pansies and lilies to the plot. way too focused, like he’s giving service.

priest!eren who sits on his recliner right by his window so he doesn’t have to stand up to creep on you. it’s tiring trying to get a view of you from every angle. he focuses his eyes when you stand up and bend over to pat the rest of the soil around the plants. your ass jiggles, the fat of it spills from the bottom of those nonexistent shorts you have on. “baby phat” spreads across the back of the shorts, and the bedazzled letters sparkle from the rising sun. if he squints real hard he can see the sweat leading down your back. he can see simple sweat lines going down the curve of your pussy, and down to the wet patch of your crotch. he mumbles a quiet “fuck” cause he’s staring so hard, and his dicks talking to him.

priest!eren who sits on his recliner right by his window so he doesn’t have to stand up to creep on you. it’s tiring trying to get a view of you from every angle. he focuses his eyes when you stand up and bend over to pat the rest of the soil around the plants. your ass jiggles, the fat of it spills from the bottom of those nonexistent shorts you have on. “baby phat” spreads across the back of the shorts, and the bedazzled letters sparkle from the rising sun. if he squints real hard he can see the sweat leading down your back. he can see simple sweat lines going down the curve of your pussy, and down to the wet patch of your crotch. he mumbles a quiet “fuck” cause he’s staring so hard, and his dicks talking to him.

priest!eren who smiles to himself when you get on your knees and bend down once more to pull the last few remaining weeds. what a crooked fuck. you look really nice in that position. at this point of his creepinp, he’s hard as fuck. it’s not right for him to be preying on his neighbor like this, but he can’t resist. he wants to fuck you with those shorts, pull the fabric all the way up till the thin liner disappears between your fat pussy lips. you’ve been fucking with him. you either know it or you don’t. you’re either aware of how you make him sweat under his clothes. or you just really don’t think you’re able to arouse him like that. he’s a priest for god’s sake you didn’t think he’d be into the silly flings and quick fucks. 

priest!eren who sighs heavily. he can’t think of anything that will make his boner go away. fucking nothing. he palms himself. regretting his actions — not really though. no other women got his dick dripping and staining his underwear. he’s cursing himself in his room. upset that you make his dick so wet, if anything he despises you for it. why were you so promiscuous? why do you make sinning feel so good and why does he want to corrupt a sweet little minx like you so fucking bad. you make everything look so fucking sexy. the way you walk, the way you talk. how you flaunt yourself. how you’re so sweet to the priest across the street, cause you think he’s the finest man you ever laid eyes on. the feelings are somewhat mutual. he thinks you’d have the sweetest pussy to abuse. l

priest!eren who pulls his pants down and curses even more. his dick blushes, a deep red. it’s big and slaps his stomach when he pulls his underwear down. a loud ‘thwack’. his dick is hot to the touch and the pre cum that trickles out of his tip is hotter. he’s cursing you and your name. bucking his hips up into his hand, stroking his dick how he thinks you would when you wrap your hand around him. he cums real hard when he’s done. such a young man like himself has so much pent-up stress and sexual frustrations that he cums so much. a creamy release so unwanted. now he has to clean himself, and his hand that’s covered in so much cum. he’s fuming as he gets dressed. a fine young man with so much pent-up frustrations. he just wants you to help him, and become his. 

priest!eren who rolls out of his garage in his matte black mercedes cla coupe. he rolls down the window as he pulls out in front of your house, and clears his throat. “you coming to church today?” his words make you jump and everything on your body jiggles when you turn around. “good morning to you too.” you roll your eyes and pull your gloves off as you approach his car. he’s in his usual clothing. black slacks a black turtle neck. a cross necklace sits around his neck, he has rings on almost all his fingers and his tattoo creeps up from his neck and curls back behind his ear. he’s more of the progressive type. 

“you know i’m not into church.” you say for the umpteenth time. he always asks; he doesn’t leave his residence without doing so. he thinks you need it. you need to learn how to be more modest,  cover yourself up so that horny eyes like his own can’t get a look at what will soon be his. it takes a creep to know that there are more unwelcoming eyes that fall upon you. “maybe you should think about it.” he looks you up and down one more time. cursing — again. 

your thighs swallow up those fucking shorts. you ass looks so fucking good. he can see it from the front. he’s thinking about it. thinking about many things while he thinks about those hips getting abused in a vice grip. taking you from the back, “you should really think about it.” his eyes are low. fucking animalistic. you don’t even know what this priest thinks of you. you don’t even know that he dirtied his favorite pair of black slacks because of you. 

his eyes almost pop out of his head as your tits spill over the top of his window. “they’re up here.” you point to your eyes and lower your head so he can see you. big beads of sweat roll down your forehead and every crevice of your body he can see. “if you wake up to garden, you can come to church.” 

“it sounds like you're in my business.” you suck your teeth and place your hands on your waist. “maybe you need me to be.” he smirks and rolls his window back up as he waves his hand. “you should think about coming one day, they’d love you.” they as in him and his relentless fucking dick. he’s thinking with his dick. driving off the exhaust low and pleasing to the ear. “what a fucking priest.” you sigh and you heart flutters. you like him. his attitude. makes you swoon, real hard. 

[painttasticpony]

WOE MAY ASK BLOGS BE UPON YE

Unlock The Ask Blog, aka UTAB, is my main blog. It's all about you, the blogger, unlocking all the characters and lore there is to find! Unravel the mystery that surrounds Paint Tastic and her universe while silly shenanigans take place.

Trixie has been banned from performing magic shows after a magical mishap, so she's found a new career path, in law! Trixie has to learn her way through law so she can find a way to lift her show ban, or at least, find a loophole through it.

What's an alicorn? Sparky Blaze is just a flying fire horse who loves spaghetti! Sparky's got a big weird family for tons of fun. Only Mischief happens here!

Currently only in the prologue, the story remains a mystery. All we know for right now, is that we are following the strange mare, Midnight, who appears to be searching for something in the Everfree Forest.

We start following a weird little changeling named Cricket who seems to be searching for his queen. Chrysalis hates to admit it, but she needs his help if she's going to get out of her current, stony predicament.

We're in an alternate universe, and Twilight seems very on edge, not to mention to be keeping some secrets. Time to poke and prod until she spills!

Hurrah, Princess Luna has just returned after 1000 years on the moon! She's a bit anxious, but herself and Celestia are grateful to be together once more. It's time for the celebration, and surely nothing is amiss...

Pinkie Pie has come down with something ill after being cut by a strange rock. Weird things are going on, like Fluttershy suddenly being famous and random stuff popping out of Pinkies hair! (Stuff that she doesn't remember putting there, of course). Just what in Equestria is going on??

Ask Lady Eris is a very chill, silly blog for me. It's mainly sketches, but that's what makes it so fun for me. I just like her because she's cute and fun to draw ^^ Come see the Lady of Chaos who rains chocolate milk and protects her beloved Butterscotch!

This blog combines my and others favorite characters into the Paintiverse for your inquiries! It's a lot of sketchwork but it's comedic all around

[minhosimthings]

My top five weird questions to get to know people better! (And what are my answers!)

1: If you had to comfort a friend who lost a person who was an asshole to you, would you do it? - I would and then I would tell them later on that the friend was an asshole to me. Sympathy first Savagery later.

2: If you had to choose one book/movie trope that you could actually experience for an entire week what would it be? - Enemies to Lovers all the way! I am a SIMP for this trope and I would kinda want to live in a book like simulation for a while!

3: If you had to choose a celebrity to binge watch an entire season of a show with, who would you choose and what would be the show? - I'm choosing Han Jisung! And we are gonna watch the entire first season of Hotel Del Luna while eating greasy pizza.

4: A flavour of ice cream you could eat for the rest of your life? - Butterscotch! Don't ask me why.

5: If a song was played every time you walked into a room, what would the song be? - This is HARD for me to answer cause I have a degree in music and my brain can't choose just one song. But if I had to choose, it would be either September by Earth, Wind, Fire or it would be Brooklyn Baby by Lana del Rey!

Im Tagging some people to do this, whom I hope they won't mind me tagging them! @heeliopheelia @astraystayyh @1-800-shedevil @whyyougottadothatbro @soobnny @shoverse @hyunsvngs @forjongseong @jaylaxies @eumpapas @chlorinecake @agi-ppangx @saturnandgold

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Chapter 3

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom?

Series Warning and A/Ns: Check out the Masterlist

Playlist: I will add to Spotify with each chapter.

Word Count: 4K

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You almost squealed with glee but somehow managed to keep composure while you finished drying off as Henry emerged from the water with one giant step up to the ledge. You did not miss a glance at his sculpted thighs and well-rounded ass. You and your friends called him thicc. 

With the towel still wrapped around you, you slipped your suit off before pulling on your comfy sweater. The ride back would suck if you put your clothes on over the damp suit, so while Henry made for the pine tree dressing room again, you stepped into your leggings. You would just suffer with no bra or underwear, not a big deal. And you’d have time for a quick rinse when you arrived back at the house after untacking the horses. 

Henry returned and helped you finish packing the saddlebags before giving you a boost up to Butterscotch. His firm, large hand gripped just a tad tighter around your ass than you thought strictly necessary to help you into the saddle but you were not going to argue about it.

Once he was settled in his saddle, you turned the horses home. Henry gave a whistle and Kal came bounding out from the trees. 

“Oh my God, I feel terrible! I completely forgot Kal was with us. Is it okay he was gone on his own for so long?” you asked with what you assumed was a look of horror on your face.

“Well, let’s see. Kal?” Henry called down. “Everything alright?” Kal gave a sharp, happy bark and ran around, leaping and bounding with abandon. Henry turned to you and offered a laugh to lighten your concern. “He seems perfectly fine.”

After arriving back at the house, you and Henry untacked the horses and headed inside for quick showers. For a brief moment, it seemed Henry was contemplating asking you to just join him in his shower.

“I think we’d end up missing the appointment after all,” you mused, to which Henry groaned just a little but acquiesced and headed into his guest room without you.

For maybe the first time in your life, you made it out of the room, showered and dressed before anyone else. And by anyone else, you meant Henry at this moment, who was clearly still behind a closed door and you did not want to knock, afraid to intrude so you set about stoking the morning's fire so it would be ready and roaring for the massages. 

When the team arrived, you asked David and Alexa to set up in front of the fireplace. You were about to go get Henry when your phone chimed.

ready?

Yup! You?

on my way

Henry strode into the room with such confidence you were almost blown away. He introduced himself and chatted with the massage therapists for a moment, putting them at ease with the obviously unexpected circumstances. He asked if they could understand why he’d like to ask for their complete discretion about the service and that for their trouble he was willing to triple their fee. 

When both David and Alexa were done picking their jaws off the floor, he asked for their full name and cell numbers and sent them on in a text, which he explained was to his assistant who would be sending standard NDAs in just a few moments if they could agree to spare a bit more time to organize everything before they got started.

He turned to you with a small apologetic smile and you mouthed a quiet “No worries. Me?” to which he gave a slow shake of his head. With the forms e-signed and the curtains drawn to darken the room as much as possible, you and Henry took turns disrobing and climbing onto the massage tables and under the modesty sheets.

When Alexa smoothed her hands down your back over the sheet, warming you up and preparing you for her actual touch, you couldn’t help but think there were probably three people in the room right now just barely containing themselves over the fact that Henry Cavill was mostly naked on a table next to them.

You took some deep breaths to try to push that thought out of your head and just focus on focusing on nothing except the way the strong hands swept down your back again once the sheet had been folded down. With just a few more deep, long strokes you were fully and completely in your head enjoying the massage and you stayed that way, almost oblivious to the movement beside you, until you heard a low moan.

You were snapped back to the reality that you were barely covered and getting a massage next to Henry Cavill. It took a few more moments to let that sound sink away and out of your consciousness as you returned once again to luxuriating in the relaxing motions. A little over halfway through, Alexa invited you to turn onto your back, holding the sheet in a way to shield you from both her eyes and those of anyone at the table next to you. As you settled back into a relaxed, prone state, you noticed David bent down in a hushed conversation with Henry, but again, you worked hard to remove any concern from your thoughts and just enjoy the moment.

With the short delay at the beginning, your 90-minute massage had reduced to about 80, but you were still just this side of sleep when Alexa pressed her hands gently into your collarbones with a deep exhale and thanked you quietly for the time.

You blinked your eyes open and thanked her as well, taking your own deep inhale and letting go of the last of any stress you had been feeling about the day and the situation. As you sat up, holding the sheet around you, you noticed Henry was still face down and David was just offering him a closing press on his shoulders and gracious thanks as well.

“I’m just gonna go get dressed,” you whispered to Alexa, who nodded and began packing her supplies. When you returned, Henry was gone and Alexa and David were just zipping the bags around their folding tables, giggling and chatting quietly. David noticed you and cleared his throat.

“I just have to ask. I know this wasn’t the name of the person originally booked for this appointment. I would have remembered that. How is Henry Cavill in your home right now?”

You gave a gentle laugh as you handed the now folded sheet to Alexa. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, you are one lucky lady. This may be the best thing that has ever happened to me in my dull, short life,” he beamed.

“But you’re keeping it quiet, right? I would hate for something to get out about this and ruin anything for him,” you asked with a subtle hint of concern.

“Who’s ruining what for whom?” Henry’s voice reverberated through your chest as he reentered the room, now clothed in sweatpants and a comfy looking sweater.

“Mum’s the word,” David replied, motioning as if to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

“Well, may I help you out with your equipment?” Henry asked.

“Oh, lord, no. And have you ruin any progress we made easing those back muscles? Absolutely not.”

“Well, then, here.” Henry held out his hand and small stack of folded bills. “For all your trouble.”

“Thank you very much.” David took a sheepish peek at the amount before he let out a small gasp. “This is really too…”

“Exactly what we agreed to and you two deserve,” Henry interrupted. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

Alexa and David loaded their equipment and left with the rather large sum of money Henry just randomly had available on his person. You were amazed.

“Alright then, what say you let me make you a sandwich tonight,” Henry offered. “I’m sure not the anniversary dinner you had planned, but there is no reason for you to slave over a stove for me again tonight, and I think something light sounds perfect. Okay?”

You didn’t argue. You were so relaxed, and besides, you’d already used the sauce meant for tonight on dinner the night before. So there was no longer a planned anniversary meal available anyway.

If Henry’s mind was already back on the connection made in the hot spring, he didn’t show it. He was friendly and cheery as he crafted two tremendous looking sandwiches and grabbed some cut veggies for a side. He popped the cork on a nice bottle of white he found chilling in the fridge and poured two glasses before dishing a bowl of kibble for Kal.

You took your plates and drinks to the great room and Henry stoked the fire again before sitting down to eat. You made more pleasant conversation, completely avoiding the elephant in the room: that Henry Cavill had made serious passes at you earlier in the day and that he was likely going to continue his efforts once dinner was done and dishes were put away.

You were not wrong. As you closed the cabinet where you stashed the newly dried plates, you felt his presence as Henry stepped behind you. You turned to face him and leaned back against the counter with a smile.

“May I kiss you again? Now?” he asked and you just nodded, still at a loss for the words to explain how this was happening to you at the moment.

Henry took a step closer, caging you in his arms as he placed his hands on the counter to either side of your waist and bent to place his lips against yours. This kiss was more insistent than that at the hot spring, as if he had been holding back and now decidedly wasn’t. Neither were you.

You closed your eyes and let him taste you, relishing the feel of his tongue along yours. The soft moan only spurred him on and it wasn’t long before you felt him place his hands on your hips and lift you to sit on the counter. You opened your eyes to watch him step inside your thighs, spreading your legs so he could ease his way closer to your core, where you now felt the length and firmness of his obviously hard cock.

Henry pulled away, leaving your lips longing for him. The way he tilted his head left and bent ever closer to lick and nibble at your neck made up for the loss. When he found the spot he was looking for, you felt him smile against your skin as you let out another moan, louder and filled with want.

“The things I’d like to do to you,” Henry whispered into your ear with a low growl.

“I'm pretty sure I’ll let you,” you responded, then gasped as he moved your legs around his hips and stepped back from the counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, hanging on while he made his way out of the kitchen and into the bedroom hallway, where he paused for a brief moment.

“Yours,” you suggested, with a chuckle. “I’m not sure the twin in mine will sustain you.”

“You’ve slept in a twin bed because of me?” he asked, with a hint of mortification.

“It’s fine, please do not start apologizing again. Could we just…?” you nodded your head toward his room and pleaded with your eyes for him to keep moving you in the direction of assured bliss.

Henry laughed, then dipped his head to kiss you again, pressing you back into the wall behind you. He finally made his way into his room, stepping to the bed and depositing you at the edge before reaching for the hem of his sweater and lifting it over his head. You reached for him as he dropped it to the floor, almost touching his chest before drawing your hand back. Henry grabbed your wrist and flattened your palm to his torso.

“If I didn’t want your touch, I don’t think we’d be here.”

“It felt a little like I was treating you like an animal at a petting zoo. I thought I ought to ask first,” you admitted.

“Appreciated. You don’t need to ask anymore. I think we’re a little past that now, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I’ll still probably ask a few things,” you smirked, dragging your hand down his impossibly firm chest and over his belly. “Like, can I take these down?” You gripped the waistband of his sweats, fingers tucked against his skin and thumb pressing on the fabric. At his nod, you began to pull, using your other hand to nudge the pants down his thighs while you tried to avoid catching them on his engorged member. 

You did this all by feel, your eyes still locked onto his, watching as they darkened with lust. When you could finally tear your gaze away, it fell to his waist where you couldn’t suppress an audible gasp. You had an inkling, seeing him in those tight swim trunks and feeling him against you, but you were not prepared for the specimen before you. 

Henry settled a hand under your jaw and tilted your head back toward his.

“We’ll take it slow. Don’t worry.” 

Hidden behind those words was the obvious fact that Henry was larger than any man you’d ever been with and he knew it. Also unspoken was the truth that he had likely been with many women who were unaccustomed to a man of his size and therefore he’d developed a skill for easing into it.

He started by making a motion to lift off your sweater. You hesitated to lift your arms, suddenly realizing that as much as you would never forgive yourself if you let this opportunity pass you by, you were maybe not as prepared as you thought you were.

“Still okay?”

You furrowed your brow and sought the words to help him understand you were absolutely not rejecting his advances in any way at the moment.

“It’s just…”

“Intimidating?” he asked, with no judgment in his tone.

“I mean, yes, but not in the way you might be thinking. I’m aware of my initial reaction, but, no…it’s…” How could you say this without falling back into a pit of despair about your recent relationship?

“Would it help if I pulled these up for now?” Henry asked, bending as if to grab his pants.

“No!” You cleared your throat and laughed a little. “I mean, no, please. I realize things are a little lopsided at the moment, but…”

“Why don’t you scoot back up on the bed?” he interrupted you, stepping all the way out of his pants as he watched you shift and crawl backwards at his urging. You could feel your heart beat faster as he kneeled onto the bed and made his way to your side. You did not hide the way your eyes watched all of him. 

“You know, I did see you in that swimsuit. And I do have quite the imagination, especially with the right inspiration in front of me. But we have time. If you’d rather wait a bit…”

“That’s just it, Henry. I don’t want to wait. I haven’t wanted to wait from the moment you got into your car and followed me back here yesterday. It’s just, well, you’re you and I’m me and, well it’s been a while, okay? Not like ‘years' a while, but certainly months…” God, this was bordering on humiliating again. You remembered that even when Jeremy had made it home from work trips, he’d ignored that aspect of your relationship. But you didn’t want to say his name again or even mention it in the current situation. What a fucking mood killer.

“How about I first tell you that how hard I am for you right now is exactly how hard I was thinking about you naked on that table next to me? It’s why I convinced David that all I cared about was a shoulder and back massage. I think I disappointed him a little.”

Your eyes went wide at the admission and you smiled affectionately. “You most certainly did not disappoint him.”

“Still nervous?” he asked, and you gave a small nod in return. “Then how about I just kiss you again for a bit?” Henry offered, propped on one elbow and the other hand on your hip. You nodded again as he leaned in and proceeded to kiss you with a skill you’d only experienced once before in your life and that was a few hours ago in a natural hot spring. 

The man was adept, there was no denying it. He nibbled softly at each lip, eased his tongue inside to open your mouth wider, slid his hand up your side to caress your neck and hold you in place while he launched into the sweetest assault possible.

His touch lit you on fire and his kiss had you moaning for more. More of his kiss. More of his caress. More of him. Minutes passed with his mouth on yours and you almost forgot for the time that Henry Cavill was naked in your bed while you were decidedly not. When he pulled away, dragging your bottom lip with him for a brief moment, your whimper made him chuckle.

“Feeling better?”

“Not now that you've stopped kissing me again, no” you answered with a small pout.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to keep kissing you, but what do you say we even the field here a bit? Up for it?”

You nodded with a lingering shyness, but vowed to just breathe deep and let him undress you. He sat you up and pulled your sweater over your head, dropping it to the floor behind him. He pressed you gently to your back again, dragging his palm down from your shoulder to your chest. Braless after the massage, you relished the way his fingertips glided over the swell of your breast and onto the nipple, palm molding to the shape and squeezing gently. You expected his mouth to return to yours, longed even for the talent of his tongue. But instead he dipped his head to capture your other breast in his lips, tongue circling the pebble and teeth teasing a bite.

You had enough will to watch his eyes flick to yours when he heard the hiss, but once you were sure he was sure you didn’t mind, you closed your lids slowly and let him kiss you this way instead. So taken with the feeling of heaven you were floating toward, you barely noticed the way his body moved over yours as he settled himself between your legs, kisses moving along your sternum and across your belly from side to side.

No, it wasn’t until you felt his grip on the waistband of your leggings, fingers brushing against your hips, that you realized he wasn’t coming back to kiss you like before. He apparently had another kind of kiss in mind and your eyes flew open to beg him to … what? Stop? No, you didn’t want him to stop. Not one bit.

And he knew it, too. This smirk felt different, cockier, less cautious.

“Alright if I take these off too?”

“Yes. God yes, please.”

There was something about the way he knew what he was doing that made your apprehension disappear completely. He had no trouble removing your leggings and replacing them with his arms as he wrapped your legs around his neck and lowered himself between your wide open legs, stretched to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.

When he put his mouth against you, it was an explosion of sensation. Warm, wet, strong, searching, specific. He held you open so he could drag the tip of his tongue slowly all the way across from one side to the other and halfway back again before dipping it low to tease its way just inside you. And you heard him groan, felt him take another taste before pulling himself away to focus as much attention as he could on your clit. But he groaned again and now this was all you could hear. 

His sound reverberated through your pussy and you clenched around nothing but the ache you felt for him. 

“Henry,” you moaned. “God…”

“You taste amazing,” he managed before returning all his attention to licking and sucking every millimeter of your nether lips. When he finished, he went back to running his tongue along your slit seeking any juice that managed to escape before finally wrapping his lips tightly around your clit, sucking lightly then flicking his tongue against it. 

He continued each and every one of these motions for what seemed like a million years, moaning against you every now and then. Every prickle from his beard and mustache against the tender flesh of your thighs only served to heighten the sensations. When you were done screaming his name he gently held your bucking hips in place with a large palm as he shifted and crawled his way up and along your side. The pleasant burn left between your legs didn’t bother you one bit.

You turned breathless to meet his gaze and leaned forward to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and reigniting the moans you had just tamped down.

“That good, eh?” he teased and you tapped his chest in fake protest.

“Please. Like you don't know by now how good you are at that.” You gave him another kiss before pressing your palm against his shoulder, nudging him to lay back so you could climb a leg over his waist and haul yourself up to straddle him, careful to set yourself away from his rock hard cock.

“I suppose that’s true. No use in pretending, clearly,” he winked at you and you laughed at how ridiculous the whole thing really was. 

“Do you want to show me what else you’re good at?” you asked in a suddenly low and provocative voice. Henry took note of the change and you saw his eyes darken again just before he grabbed your waist and moved to flip you over to cover you once again.

“Yes. I absolutely do. Will you wait right here?” He began to edge off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere. I mean it now, leave those legs exactly where they are.”

You were mesmerized at his insistence and offered no resistance, leaving your legs spread wide for him. You saw him bend over to reach for something in his bag and set to admiring the naked backside of Henry Cavill, here to fuck you already.

When he turned back to crawl onto the bed again, a handful of condoms spilling over next to you, you noticed the way he also smirked again, pleased to find you exactly where he’d asked you to stay. As if you could say not to this man.

Somehow he also produced a small tube of lube, which he also dropped next to the condoms as he moved to slide up next to you again, his chest pressed up against your side. He kissed you once hard as his fingers inched over your thigh and onto your awaiting pussy. He pulled away from your mouth so he could watch your face as he began to press a finger into your already soaking core.

Since he could see how good that felt for you, he went ahead and slipped a second finger inside so he could tease and twist and stretch you open, making way for him. He knew you were wet enough. There wasn’t any question about how much he’d made you come and how much wetter he was making you as he moved his fingers in some sort of magical dance inside you.

When you felt the third finger enter you cried out in a pleasure you hadn’t ever known before.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s really good. See how well you're taking that?” Henry growled in your ear. “You’ll feel that and a whole lot more in just a few more moments. You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes, please. Yes. I’m ready, Henry.”

“What is it you are ready for? Will you tell me?”

“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” you told him.

“Yeah you are.”

Chapter 4

Tags: Please let me know if you want on or off or moved.

@littlegreenplasticsoldier- you opened this floodgate. Sorry.

Anything: @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @aireraume @kebabgirl67 @marantha @sweetdreamsofgelato @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @alexakeyloveloki @feelmyroarrrr @raccoon-eyed-rebel @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @kingliam2019 @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka

Hall Pass: (askers and likers, though if you liked the teaser post and you aren’t here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you)  @crymeariversworld @tess-lecter-blog @codykosuckmytoe @casadutti @fefa-la-printcessa @kaylamontaniz @kemillyfreitas​ @urmom3sposts​ @alicasalime​ @florxdexcerezo​ @lothbrokcore​ @straightforwardly @fuzzyugly-blog @livesinfantasyland @thereisa8ella @coldmooninthedark @12dilucswife @ms-angiealsina @7eamfan7asy @band-of-brothers-memes @ms-betsy-fangirl @cavillsslut @ryuuhana91 @henryownsme @hawklin @yoongskook

[worlds-worst-dad-competition]

!ANNOUNCING OUR COMPETITORS!

In preparation for the bracket opening, I'd like to announce who will be competing for the title of World's Worst Dad! The bracket will be double elimination with 20 competitors on each side, with a total of 40 competitors.

THE POLLS WILL GO LIVE ON MARCH 5, 2023 AT 12PM EST. MARK YOUR CALENDARS! At that time, links to the polls will be added to this post. See you there!

SIDE A:

Odin vs. Ash Williams

Buck Cluck vs. Martin Blyndeff

Ledroptha Curtain vs. The Pale King

William Afton vs. Victor Frankenstein

Butterscotch Horseman vs. Claude Frollo

Humbert Humbert vs. Pop

Ghetsis vs. Gabriel Agreste

Gul Dukat vs. George Bluth

Tigerstar vs. Bruce Wayne

Mr. Wormwood vs. Relius Clover

SIDE B:

Manfred von Karma vs. Professor Membrane

Richard Watterson vs. Fire Lord Ozai

Clay Puppington vs. Kyle Riker

Thanos vs. Anakin Skywalker

Count Olaf vs. Frank Gallagher

Emperor Belos vs. Enji Todoroki

Shou Tucker vs. Blaise Debeste

King vs. Omni-Man

Hades vs. John Winchester

Ansem the Wise vs. Vinsmoke Judge

Once again, I'll see you on March 5.

May the worst dad win.

[oh-stars]

Duck!

D is for Duck

Ohstars Alphabet Prompts | G | 667 words | cw: N/A

---

“We don’t get here enough,” Steve says as he pushes the stroller. 

Robin hums. “No, we don’t.” She tugs down the visor on the stroller to hide Charlotte from the sun more. “I’m surprised their parents let you take them.” 

Steve’s eyes count each kid again, all seven accounted for, as they head to the next exhibit. “I think the Feds’ story about me helping get them out of the fire really put the final nail in the ‘Steve’s a Competent Babysitter’ title. Kind of hard to come up with an excuse why I can’t take them somewhere when I saved their lives.” It's not that simple, he knows that, but he’s proven time and time again that he’ll do what it takes to get those little shits out of harm’s way. 

Erica stops in the middle of the walkway and points to the ice cream stand with a raised eyebrow. Their deal still rings in his head. 

“Fine,” he calls, “go.” He can’t deny her anything, especially not when it’s as hot as it is out here. They hadn’t really taken into account the August heat when they made the last minute plan for a day at the zoo. 

She holds her head high as she passes the others and heads for the stand. 

By the time Steve and Robin make their way to the stand, the others already have their ice cream cones – arguing over which flavor is supreme. They’re all wrong, nothing beats butterscotch, but Steve doesn’t have the fight in him to get in the middle of that. He pays for everyone and takes Charlotte over to a nearby table so he can share the cup of ice cream he got for them. 

She’s been grumpy all day. He’s pretty sure it’s the fact he won’t let her down to run around, not with the cast still on her leg. He’d love nothing more for her to be able to play like she should, but he also needs her to heal right, so stroller jail it is. 

“C’mon, Lots,” Steve says, holding out the spoon for her to take a bite. 

Charlotte pushes away the spoon with a mighty, “No!” 

Steve sighs and takes the bite for himself. 

“I thought she liked the zoo,” Dustin asks, pointing to her. 

“She does,” Steve says. “She’s mad at me.” 

“How do you anger a toddler?” Mike asks, a snotty little eyebrow raised. 

Steve just shrugs. His patience is thinning and as much as his little girl lights up his life, right now, he needs a goddamn break. He keeps trying to feed her, every few bites, while the kids decide where they’re going next. The reptile house seems to be their next hit. 

Suddenly, Charlotte lights up, straining against the seatbelt on her stroller. “Da-ee! Duck!” she cries, pointing past him. 

He looks over his shoulder and, sure enough, a few ducks are waddling through the gate toward the tables. Huh. Steve sets down the cup of ice cream and quickly pulls Charlotte out of her stroller for a better look. “You see the duckies?” 

“Duck,” she says, toothy grin wide as she carefully watches them. 

They drove all this way to see cool animals and spend the day together, and the one thing that puts a smile on her face isn’t even a part of the zoo. 

The ducks quack as they get closer. Steve knows he shouldn’t encourage them, but he reaches into the diaper bag for some of Charlotte’s crackers so she can feed them. It’s the least he can do to make this day better for her. 

“Gentle,” he says, helping her scatter the cracker around. 

She giggles, squealing with delight as one of them investigates her cast. “Duck! No!” she says, reaching down to shoo the duck away. 

He looks up to see the kids all done with their ice cream and ready to move on. “Go on,” he tells them. “I think we’re going to be here a minute.”

---

Thank you to @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[buckybarnesb-tch]

I have put together a list of all of the Smells that I think each designation would possess, mostly good, natural smells but some bad as well that come from negative feelings like Fear and Anxiety

Alphas Good Smells:

Pine Trees

Fireplace

Aftershave

Whiskey

Leather

Old Spice

Burning Wood

Brown Sugar

Apple Pie

Peppermint

Coconut

Toffee

New Car Smell

BBQ

Tequila

Matches

Fresh Money

Dark Chocolate

Bacon

Freshly Brewed Coffee

Maple Syrup

Sandalwood

Gasoline

Patchouli

Seawater

Ginger

Hay

Mahogany

Gunpowder

Pears

Cedar Wood

Amber

Pesto

Sautéed Onions

Funnel Cake

Cigarettes

Blackberry

Fresh Cut Grass

Ink

Snap Fire Crackers

Bad Alpha Smells:

Wet Dog

Rancid Meat

Blue Cheese

Blood

Sweaty Feet

Tar

Betas Good Smells:

Lilies

Bamboo

Champagne

Apricots

Pumpkin

Shortbread

Almonds

Tulips

Pina Colada

Mochi

Raspberry

Macaroons

Sharpies

Baby Powder

Butterscotch

Mangos

Sautéed Garlic

Key Lime Pie

Dove Soap

Peanut Butter

Coal

Black Tea

Wet Forest

Marigolds

Fresh Basil

Lilacs

Vanilla

Soda Flavored Lip Smackers

Bad Beta Smells:

Rotting Fish

Oil

Burnt Popcorn

Tuna

Dog Food

Vinegar

Omega Good Smells:

Chocolate Covered Strawberries

Chamomile Tea

Jasmine

Spearmint

Roses

Old Books

Crème Brûlée

Honeysuckle

Eucalyptus

Marijuana

Citrus

Caramel

Cherry Blossom

Cinnamon Bun

Lavender

Whipped Cream

Apples

Dryer Sheets

Fresh Bread

Aloe Vera

Sea Breeze

Peaches

Magnolia Trees

Thunderstorms

Honeycomb

Cherries

S’mores

Cookies Fresh from the Oven

Blanket Fresh out of the Dryer

Sky After it Rains

Smell of Baskin Robins

Bad Omega Smells:

Burnt Rubber

Rotten Eggs

Bleach

Nail Polish Remover

[mrchiipchrome]

Masterlist

Blurbs

UNC Less

Song Prompts 

Alessia Russo

Soft moments and mischievous activities

Trends and Kisses 

The '23 Bonnie & Clyde 

Sleepwalking 

Thirst Tweets 

Mothers

Cookie Clicker

Distracted

When Y/n Met Alessia

Potato

The Drunk Dial 

Knight In Shining Armor

Airport Dad

Sixth Sense

Butterscotch 

Glass Child 

The Mechanic

Mornings With You 

Softlaunch

Alexia Putellas

Call Your Girlfriend

New Girlfriend 

Rain 

Ella Toone

Princess Treatment

Frida Maanum

The Olive Theory 

Freezing

Katie McCabe

Blessing In Disguise

Keira Walsh

Parents Family Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

Valerie

Lucy Bronze

Parents Family Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

Lauren Hemp

Need for Speed

Leah Williamson

Sunscreen

Nosebleed(s)

Helmet

Lia Wälti

The Museum

Mary Fowler

Once In A Lifetime 

Steph Catley

All Mine 

Arsenal Women

Misophonia

[joelslegalwhre]

! this isn't sorted by character, sorry I'm lazy.. :')!

istg I'm the most confused girlie out there and I forget about my #want to read tag all the time, so this tbr shelf can be not only mine but your place to find new fics if you see anything you think sounds good!👀

If you decide to read a fic (any fic) don't forget to leave the author a reblog or comment! Supporting the creators is to show them love!💜

your heart, a sonnet - Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader by @kedsandtubesocks

incomplete - Ezra x gn!reader by @alwaysmicado

butterscotch orange - frankie morales x f!reader by @undercoverpena

waiting game - dbf!Joel x Reader by @gutsby

hating game - dbf!Joel x Reader by @gutsby

chamomile - Dieter Bravo x f!reader by @tightjeansjavi

i wonder if you stopped his world like you did mine - frankie morales x f!reader by @chronically-ghosted

meet me in the back - sleazy gas station clerk!joel x fem!reader by @atticrissfinch

i didn’t know you smoked - steven grant x reader by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

best of both worlds - mando x f!reader by @thefrogdalorian

do the right thing - Postoutbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader by @joelsgreys

the sweepstakes series - porn star!pedro boys x f!reader by @katareyoudrilling (her whole masterlist tbh)

sex on fire - ceo!joel x f!reader by @macfrog

are you ever dreaming of me - dave york x f!reader by bestie @janaispunk

From Eden - AU Pirate!Joel Miller x Mermaid f!Reader by @tightjeansjavi (her whole masterlist bc Gi's writing is amazing😭)

know better - daddy!marcus pike x fem!reader by @ezrasbirdie

Divide my legs like a mathematician - Dbf!Joel x virgin!reader by @joelmillerisapunk

You wanted this masterlist - fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader by @alwaysmicado

iron and charcoal - pero tovar x f!reader by @chronically-ghosted

The Outlaws - Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader by @mothandpidgeon

buckles and barley (masterlist) - Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranchhand! Reader by @penvisions

For The Love Of Horror - Dieter Bravo x Horror Lover by @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist

Daddy Travel Diaries (masterlist) - Soft daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader by @joelmillerisapunk

Moving Day - dbf!joel x f!reader by @medellintangerine

Light The Flame - mbf! Joel Miller x F! Reader by @yeollie-plz

I'll update this list as I find new fics I want to read, and remove fics I've already read. But don't worry, I'll post a monthly fic rec list starting in february, where you can find all my "already read" fics from this list! <3

main masterlist