#getting back to writing week

[bluerosefox]

Drake Siblings

Have I read this prompt somewhere or was this a fever dream from my bored mind.

What if, now hear me out.

What if we bring up Dana Winters-Drake (whose confirmed to at least be alive in the DC verse but no one knows where she actually is)

What if instead of when she had a mental breakdown and getting committed to an Bludhaven clinc she wandered away before anyone noticed and by the time Tim or anyone did notice a lot of stuff started happening at once in both Gotham and Bludhaven (Steph dying, The Bludhaven crisis, etc etc)

Tim still tries to find her though but even with best resources it was like she just disappeared into the wilderness and the stress of trying to handle more and more problems get worse.

So when out of the blue, a couple of years later, he gets a call from an unknown number. On his private, only for friends and family, phone and when he answers he meet with a young girls voice on the other end.

A very young, maybe six or seven, girl who informs him about his apparently half-brother Danny Drake-Fenton. And how she loves Danny so, so, so much but knows her home is dangerous for him to be in.

Tim is stunned and before he could question her, she says Danny is Dana and Jack's baby and that her parents had adopted him years ago and put Dana's stuff that the hospital had away for him to look at when he was older but she just had to fight off their lunch from eating her brother and she knows he needs a better place to live and so she snooped around and found Dana's diary and that she had to unscramble the nonsense Dana wrote and found Tim's number with the words 'tell him about his brother Danny' hidden in it. And-

But before she could keep rambling she hears Danny screaming "JAZZY THE MILK WENT BAD AGAIN AND HISSED AT ME!"

Tim is left with silence after hearing Jazz yell to Danny to lock the fridge and step out of the kitchen as she gets the bat.

[cloudybarnes]

bad idea right?

Pairing: theodore nott x reader

Summary: after theo breaks up with you, he pledges to make things right and do anything necessary to win you back. however, you are determined to make him work if he wants to win you over again aka part two to new beginnings

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

a/n: LONG AWAITED PART TWO WOOHOOOO also this could be read as a solo instead of a part two if you really wanted, but here's part one in case you wanna read that as well ;)

✰  ✰  ✰

“Please don’t tell me you got back together with him!” Ginny groaned. She sat on the edge of your bed as Hermione braided your hair for the night. 

“No, I didn’t get back with him. I told him if he really wanted to prove it to me, then he could.” 

“So you’re thinking of getting back with him.” She said disapprovingly. Hermione chuckled from her seat in the bed behind you. She was working on doing dutch braids in your hair. 

“I think it’s fine, Gin,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if she’s going to jump back in bed with him.”

You waggled your eyebrows teasingly to Ginny. She gasped and swatted your shoulder. “That’s so not funny, (Y/N/N). Just because you think he’s sexy doesn’t mean you should get back with him.”

Theodore broke up with you very unexpectedly. He barely even had a reason for breaking up with you, which left you heartbroken and devastated. You were in bed for a few days, had a good cry, and then you were back. 

Theo had tried to mend the broken bond between your relationship, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take him back that easily. Your ego was high, and you knew you would be kicking yourself if something like that happened again right when you took him back. 

“Don’t worry, Ginny. If he really wants me back, he’s gonna have to work for it. He knows that.”

“Alright,” Hermione said as she tied off the end of your hair. “All finished. Your hair’s gonna look so good tomorrow.”

“Theo better be drooling when you see him,” Ginny said, “if not, I’ll give him a different reason to drool.” She made a motion of punching her fists together, insinuating she would punch him in the mouth. 

You chuckled. “Hopefully there won’t be any blood drawn. I don’t think he’d really wanna go through all the trouble if it just got him a busted lip.”

“Oh no,” Ginny grinned, “it would be more than just a busted lip. I’ve got five brothers, I’m known to throw a mean punch or two.”

“Lights out girls!” The prefect yelled as she knocked on your bedroom door. 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you guys at breakfast. But for real, if Theo tries anything you know I’m right there for you.” 

You smiled, grateful to have a friend as awesome as her. “Yeah, Gin, I know. Thank you.” 

She smiled, “night guys.”

You two said your good nights as Hermione moved from your bed to her own. 

“What do you think he’ll do tomorrow?” You asked Hermione as she shut off the lights. You pulled the covers close to your body, waiting for her response. 

“I’m not sure,” she replied, getting comfy in her own bed. “Hopefully something sweet. He’s got a lot of making up to do if he wants to get back on our good side.”

You smiled softly, “yeah, you’re right. Night, ‘Mione.”

“Goodnight.”

✰  ✰  ✰

The next morning at breakfast, the owl dropped a letter in front of you.

“What’s that?” Ron asked, his mouth filled with food. 

Ginny slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Honestly, you act like you were raised in a barn.”

“We were raised in the same house, you know.” He pointed. 

“What a shame that was,” she replied. 

You chuckled at their banter, and ripped open the seal on the letter. 

“What’s it say?” Hermione asked. 

You scanned over the words before you read them aloud. “It says,

(Y/N), 

I hope you know how much you mean to me. I was a fool to break things off with you. I only hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. 

Forever yours,

Theo”.

“Forever yours?” Ginny squealed. “That is so romantic.” 

Hermione raised her brow quizzically. “Weren’t you the one telling her not to get back with him?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I can have mixed feelings about this. He breaks her heart but then he writes her a love letter. It’s got me confused, okay?” 

You chuckled. “I think it’s cute. It’s not gonna win me back, but it was an alright effort.”

“Oooh, what a burn,” Harry chuckled. “Poor bloke must’ve forgot how stubborn you are.”

You shook your head with a smile, “nah, he didn’t forget. If I know anything about Theo, he’s just getting started.”

“So, (Y/N/N),” Ron said, “do you want to get back with him or what’s going on with this?”

You shrugged. “I mean, obviously I still love him. It just sucks what he did and I don’t think he should be able to get off the hook that easily. He shouldn’t be forgiven for breaking my heart just because he writes a little letter.”

“I love you for that,” Ginny said as she nodded her head. 

“Hey, (Y/N/N).”

Looking behind you, you could see Enzo give a sheepish smile and a small wave. 

You grinned, “Hey Enzo, how are you? Sorry about yesterday, by the way, Theo’s a little crazy sometimes.”

He chuckled and awkwardly rubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But, yeah, no, Theo and I are all good. He apologized last night and told me all about his plans to woo you.”

You chuckled with a roll of your eyes. “Go figure.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled, “anyway, I just wanted to come by and resume how we were before, you know, the whole break up thing, and drop off this book I think you’ll like.” 

Enzo pulls out a book from his satchel and hands it to you. 

“Coraline?” You asked as you flip it around and skim over the synopsis. 

“Yeah, it’s kind of spooky and psychological which I think you’ll really enjoy.”

You grinned up at him, “that’s perfect. Thank you, Enzo.” 

He sent a tight lipped smile, and nodded before turning away and walking back to the slytherin table. 

“I like Enzo,” Ginny said with a dreamy look on her face. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go get him then. He’s a sweetie.” 

“You guys and those Slytherin boys,” Ron shakes his head with a scoff. “Not even that cute, I’ll tell ya.”

“Oh, what?” Ginny asked sassily, “like you’re cute?”

“I think Ron’s cute,” Hermione winked at her boyfriend. 

“Ugh, barf,” Ginny said. 

The bell rang. You all stood to gather your things for first class. 

“We’ll see you guys later,” you smiled as Hermione and you walked out to your shared first class. 

“That was a pretty cute letter,” Hermione said as the two of you started walking down the hall. 

“Yeah, I think it was sweet, but like I said, he can’t win me back that eas-“

“Excuse me?” Someone tapped your shoulder. 

Stopping, you and Hermione turned to see a younger Slytherin boy, presumably a first year, standing before you. 

“Uh, yes?” You asked confused, “do you need help with something?”

“Um, Theodore says I have to carry your satchel and books for you.” The first year stood awkwardly. 

“Oh, uh, that’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You blushed, a little embarrassed that Theo would make a first year cater to you. 

“I have to.” He said adamantly. “Theodore said he’ll set me up with this hot girl I like if I carry your books for you.” 

Hermione snickered from next to you. You turned back to her, a bewildered smile on your face as you tried not to laugh.  

“Well,” you said as you handed the young boy your satchel. “I can’t be the one to stop your true love, now can I?”

The boy grinned as he held on to your satchel as well as his. 

“Theodore is crazy,” Hermione remarks as you continue walking to your next class. The boy followed behind the two of you all the way to your first period. 

As soon as your classroom came into view, you could see Theodore standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He grinned a devilish thing as he saw you approach. 

“I’ll meet you in there,” Hermione said with a knowing smirk. 

You walked up to Theo. He was beautiful as ever, but even he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere. 

“Hi (Y/N).” He smiled at you then turned to the kid. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll have my guys put in a good word with Maizy for you.”

The kid nodded his head and smiled as he ran off. 

Theo threw your satchel over his shoulder and held out the beautiful assortment of flowers towards you. “For you, to say I’m sorry for being a douchebag and an idiot and a stupid motherfucker. All in the words of Draco by the way. Never knew how much he liked us together.” 

You chuckled and grabbed the flowers out of Theo’s hand. “Thank you.”

He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, have you thought about what I said yesterday?” 

You sighed. “Of course I’ve thought about it Theo. Just like I’ve thought about how much you broke my heart when you dumped me.”

“Okay, I deserved that.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah. Thank you for the flowers, Theo. And… I still care about you, I just need time to figure this all out. I can’t just forgive you that fast when you broke my heart, just  last week!”

Theo sighed, “I know. I know! Fuck! I know I fucked up, baby, but I am going to do everything I can to win you back. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes, baby, I swear it to do. The boys are down my back yelling at me for how hard I screwed everything up. They think I’m stupid, and I think I’m stupid too for letting you go. I promise you, I will do everything it takes for you to trust me again, mi amore.”

Your eyes softened. Theo knew exactly how to make your heart soar. 

“Theo…” 

“No, baby,” he shook his head. “You take your time. I’m gonna be here whenever you decide if you want to forgive me or not. Hopefully you decide you do want to forgive me.” He chuckled awkwardly. 

You matched his awkward laugh. “Well, thanks again for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” 

Theo smiled and nodded before turning around and walking away. 

✰  ✰  ✰

Later that night, you sat in the library studying for your Herbology final. Ginny and Hermione offered to help you study, but you knew you’d be here too late to want to burden them. 

As you flipped through the pages of your herbology book, you tried your best to take down any notes that you thought would be important. 

Your stomach growled. 

“Knew that was inevitable.” 

When you looked up from your textbook, you could see Theo sheepishly smiling as he held two trays from the cafeteria. 

“What was?” You asked with a smile. You cleared some papers to make space for Theo to sit down. 

He grinned and placed the trays on the table as he took his seat next to you. 

“Knew you would forget to eat while you studied for this exam.” 

You chuckled and peered over to see what Theo brought you to eat. Ham, potatoes, and stuffing from the dining hall. 

“Thank you, Theo. That’s really sweet of you.” 

He slid a tray closer to you, and you eagerly picked up the provided fork and dug in. 

Theo chuckled as you scarfed down your food. “Pretty hungry?”

You nodded as you finished chewing. Theo smiled to himself and started to take a few bites of his potatoes. 

“You’re being awfully sweet to me, Theo.” 

“Haven't I always been sweet to you, darling?”

“Well, yes. But that was before.”

Theo sighed. “I know I screwed up royally. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I’m still the same boy I was just a few months ago. I had a lapse in judgment and that cost me the best thing in my life.”

You frowned. “Theo…”

“Don’t you miss me, (Y/N/N)?” Theo shifted to face you straight on. He nervously leaned forward on the table, staring into your eyes, waiting for your response. 

“…of course I miss you, Theo. How could I not? You’re everything to me, and I’m just so scared of something like that happening again.”

“(Y/N),” Theo started. He tentatively grabbed your hands in his. “I promise you, with everything in me, if you decide to take me back I will never hurt you or disappoint you ever again. You have my word mi amore.” 

You were conflicted. You miss Theo like crazy. You couldn’t help it. No matter what you said to your friends about him having to work hard for you, it tore you apart every time you saw him knowing you still weren’t together. You missed being his. 

“Okay,” you said. 

“Okay?” Theo’s face lit up. “You-you’re giving me another chance?”

“Yeah,” you softly smiled, “I miss my boy.”

Theo grinned and yanked you toward him, engulfing you in a hug—one you’ve been waiting days for. You missed him. You missed being held by him. 

You held around his neck tightly, scared to let go. You never realize how much you craved his touch when it was gone.  

Theo buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

You smiled and pulled back. Theo smiled back at you. Slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a warm, longing kiss. Your hands rested on his cheeks, his on your waist as you kissed with all the love stored up between you. 

When he pulled away, Theo stayed close with his forehead rested against yours. “I promise you baby, I’m here for good.” 

“You better be.” 

[zephyrchama]

Living together in a big house with one (main) (shared) bathroom means that mornings can be tough.

When you first arrived at the House of Lamentation, it was hard to fit in. It was really hard to get into the bathroom in the mornings and fight six demons for use of the sink. If more than two others were in there at the same time, they practically formed a living wall that blocked you out, forcing you to wake up extremely early or risk being late for school.

That got better over time though. You gradually managed to fit into the house's morning routine.

---

Lucifer has his morning routine down to an exact science. Usually he's fully dressed and has his hair brushed before leaving the bedroom. He might be running on pure muscle memory though - one time you handed him a warm washcloth for his face and he just stared at it in confusion for several seconds with a furrowed brow. He has no problems getting it himself, but this break in routine gave him pause. It took Lucifer a moment to realize what it was and to thank you.

If you get the chance to eat breakfast together, Lucifer likes to ask about your day. "What do you have planned? Remember, we have that meeting at five. Did you prepare for the ancient hex exam?" He might slide a bit of his food onto your plate before he goes, a way of returning the pleasant energy boost you always provide for him.

---

Mammon can hustle. Which means that Mammon can get up early if it benefits him in some way. A part time job, an early bird discount, a chance to slip past Lucifer's defenses and borrow some cash.

That doesn't mean it's easy. Waking up takes some serious effort. Mammon will stumble into the bathroom to do his business first thing in the morning, yawning with his eyes half closed and tugging up whatever pants he just tossed on for modesty.

The tsundere part of his brain takes a few minutes to kick in if he's just woken up. If he spots you, Mammon will demand a good morning hug and wrap his arms around you, deaf to your cries of "Mammon! Go wash your hands before you touch me!"

---

Leviathan is always groaning in the morning. He's probably not aware of it. He's probably muttering complaints but is too tired to actually speak the words properly. His blankets are always a tangled mess, wrapped unevenly around his feet and contorted around his body, but Leviathan can easily Houdini his way out of them when it's time to get up. If there's no event or livestream to wake up early for, he'll sleep in for as long as he can before starting the day with a nice shower.

He finds warm running water to feel so pleasant and you can often find Leviathan spacing out next to the faucet. He'll greet you with a sleepy "ah, morning," and accidentally splash you in an attempt to wave his hand. The embarrassment and slight panic from getting you a towel to dry off with is usually enough to properly wake him up, and he sheepishly exits the bathroom and guards the door until you've finished changing into dry clothes.

---

Satan can hardly even put his shirt on properly when fully awake.

The man's a sleepy mess when he tries to get dressed in the morning. He'll stay up all night to finish a book he's invested in, then stumble out of his room "ready to go" when it's time for breakfast. His pants are unzipped and the button is coming undone. He's only got one sleeve on and it's on the wrong arm, or the buttons on his shirt are all misaligned and half have been skipped over.

He doesn't protest anymore when you tidy him up. Some mornings he'll doze off while you straighten his tie and fall forward into you, then try to play it off as a hug. Satan doesn't want to let go though, you feel so much warmer on a chilly morning.

---

Asmodeus is a rare morning riser. Too much sleep is bad for the skin, he claims. If he has trouble getting up, he'll either go soak in his private tub for energy or seek you out.

"You have to hear what happened last night," he'll say, strolling into your room while there's still ten minutes left on your alarm. He sits on the edge of your bed, and if you try falling back asleep he pulls you up into a sitting position. "Listen to this, you won't believe it!"

Asmodeus isn't afraid to get touchy if it means you'll wake up faster and he gets your attention. He'll sit you in his lap, or press you against his side, or run his hands down your face and squish your cheeks with a mischievous smile.

When the main bathroom is too crowded to use you're free to borrow his, with the caveat he gets to style you for the day and you might be late when he gets overzealous.

---

Beelzebub can also be found awake in the mornings. The quiet hours before everyone else wakes up are best for stretching, taking jogs, and grabbing a pre-breakfast appetizer. He'll get spooked if he hears footsteps approach the kitchen and slam the fridge door shut in a hurry, but all is well when he sees you enter the room instead of Lucifer.

Beelzebub is a big guy who takes up a lot of space. When you run into each other in the bathroom and are rushing to get ready, it's easy to bump into him. On days he's still pretty tired, he might not even notice you bonk your head against his arm. That's fine though - you don't want him to notice you until he's brushed his teeth. After all, Beelzebub's morning breath is a potent magical weapon.

If you need the bathroom sink while he occupies it, Beelzebub is kind enough to nudge you in front of him (once you've confirmed his mouth is minty fresh). You both get to use the mirror this way, and you can both see each other's smiling faces.

---

Belphegor is the king of oversleeping. The powers of you and his twin combined are hardly enough on some days, but mostly the responsibility of waking him falls to you. You quickly learned it's best to wake him from behind his head, if you can manage to maneuver your way into a suitable spot to do so. Anywhere his limbs can easily grab you will result in being pulled into bed. He's like a sleeping kraken.

You suspect that Belphegor wakes up easier than he lets on, but he feigns ignorance. He insists he was totally fast asleep when you struggled to physically drag him down the hallway towards the bathroom, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso with all your strength. And when he clung on to your waist and nuzzled his head into your stomach. And when Beel came to help free you from Belphegor's clutches, but he rolled you under him and muttered "mine now."

Definitely fast asleep, doesn't remember a single thing.

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 43 (Masterlist)

(Part 44)

Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.

Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—

@bruciemilf guess who’s back

Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)

I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.

Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL

[afewproblems]

Eddie downs the last of his beer and tosses the empty red cup into the kitchen sink, right between a couple who were clearly gearing up to claim one of the spare rooms upstairs. 

Eddie snickers and winks as the girl tells him to fuck off while her boyfriend flips him the bird, god he loves highschool parties, and this one is no exception.

It's Halloween and business is booming for Eddie Munson.

He imagines Dian Fossey felt similarly, wandering through the Congo studying the great apes' behavior patterns and social structure from within rather than observing from afar. 

So far Eddie's observations have paid off in spades and he's managed to sell out most of his stash by targeting the basketball team and their girlfriends. No one wants to get high all by themselves after all, it's almost too easy the way these sheep all flock together. 

Eddie leaves the kitchen behind him, but not before snagging a can of something cold from a nearby cooler of half melted ice. With a decent buzz going, what's one more? He's done working for the night after all. 

Eddie climbs the stairs, dodging drunk teens left and right as they make their way past him, shirts ruffled and hair messy. Eddie snorts, ignoring the wistful pull in his chest as a tall boy on the swim team pulls his girlfriend closer to press a chaste kiss to the top of her head before smoothing her curls away from her forehead. 

Unfortunately no one Eddie would be interested in would accept him brushing their hair like that without punching him in the face.

He shakes his head and continues forward, he's an observer, nothing more. 

Eddie passes a closed door on the second floor and pauses as a raised voice splits through the wood.

"It's bullshit, you're bullshit," the voice slurs out and Eddie feels a wide grin pull at the corner of his mouth. 

He takes a step closer, nearly pressing his ear to the flat of the door.

"Like we're in love?" Another voice says softly, a guy, "you don't love me?" 

A small part of Eddie knows he shouldn't be listening to this, he can hear the waiver in this guy's voice like his heart is slowly cracking in his chest. Shit, he almost feels bad for this guy. 

But the people that go to these stupid parties, the Hawkins elite, the gorillas in the mist, deserve their bullshit --to use this girls turn-of-phrase.

The only reason they didn't mess with Eddie was because he was these highschool shit-heads main source of weed. 

Its karma, plain and simple, Eddie reasons as he presses even closer now.

"It's. Bullshit". The girl hisses emphatically and for a second Eddie hears nothing.

It happens so quickly after that. 

The door swings inward, causing Eddie to stumble into a tall firm chest as the bathroom guy collides with him.

"What the fuck?" The guy says as he pushes Eddie away from himself and --no way.

"Harrington?"

Steve blinks once, his wide hazel eyes red rimmed and shiny in the dim light of the hallway, the tip of his nose is pink as he reaches up to pinch it roughly before swiping across his eyes as well.

Even though Eddie's fairly certain that he and Steve are the same height, he seems smaller like this, deflated, standing in the hallway while a party rages down below them both. 

A cheer rings out, startling Steve into action.

He steps widely around Eddie, enough that his shoulder connects with the wall in his haste to take the stairs down, two at a time, as though Hell is hot on his heels. 

And Eddie should leave it, go back to the party, see if there are any snacks left before calling it a night, but something pushes him to follow the path Steve took.

It's like he's possessed, the haunted look in those hazel eyes forcing him forward until he's outside on the lawn.

A few other teens are outside, including a couple making out on the porch, Eddie steps over them and jogs to the end of the driveway.

He spots Steve down the street sitting on a large rock at the end of another neighbor's lawn with his face in his hands.

He looks up as Eddie gets closer and curses softly.

"Seriously? It wasn't enough that you were listening, you're following me now?" His voice cracks on the last word as he wipes his eyes again, he can't quite hide the way the moonlight catches the tear tracks running down his cheek and neck though.  

"Oh come on Harrington," Eddie says, walking up to Steve. He sits on one of the other rocks and takes a crumpled pack of smokes out of his vest pocket, "it's no fun if you're sad".

"What is?" Steve mumbles after a beat, wiping his eyes again as he stares at the ground. 

"Making fun of you," Eddie shrugs as he takes a cigarette and puts it between his lips, he smiles at the startled bark of laughter from Steve.

"You're a prick," he huffs softly, the barest of smiles slowly blooming across his face.

Eddie can count the constellation of freckles and moles across his face, giving the blanket of stars above them a run for their money. His hand twitches at the thought of touching the ones on Steve's throat.

Eddie coughs once, mentally tallying the number of drinks he must have had for those kinds of  thoughts and shifts on the rock to adjust his pants. 

He holds out the pack to Steve who looks at the nearly empty sleeve before his eyes shift to the house behind Eddie. 

"Nance hated cigarettes," Steve murmurs as the corner of his mouth twitches into a terrible frown. It's gone in an instant as Steve blinks once and reaches out for the pack.

"I got something stronger if you want?" Eddie offers, he shrugs when Steve looks up at him with suspicious eyes. 

"Come on Harrington, I'm not gonna keep kicking you when you're down, you need a pick-me-up and then I can get back into it," Eddie stands up and without thinking, holds out a hand towards Steve, "what do you say?"

Steve stares up at him, his eyes flick once to the outstretched hand before he snorts dryly and slowly takes his hand. 

It's warm in Eddie's own. The fingers squeeze gently as Steve uses it to hoist himself up until he's once again eye level with Eddie. 

From this close Eddie can see the way his eyelashes have clumped together with leftover tears and the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes

Oh…this, this was a bad idea. Eddie swallows roughly as Steve finally nods.

"Lead the way Munson," Steve says with the barest of smirks as he wipes his face one last time, "and if you tell anyone about this, I'll slash your tires".

Eddie cackles at that, "there he is!"

He claps Steve on the back as he leads them towards where he parked his van down the road, "our chariot awaits!"

Eddie ignores the small voice that whispers in his ear, the one that sounds remarkably like his uncle, as it asks him just what the hell he thinks he's doing with Harrington of all people? 

It'll be fine, he tells himself.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Part Two

[royalarchivist]

Everyone this week: *lore, conspiracy theories, long conversations with Cucurucho, multiple attempts to summon the Binary Monster*

Spreen when lore:

[pizzaqueen]

Based on my post, which was based on a part in one of my fics haha

Another first kiss with a silly twist / rated T

Steve isn’t expecting it, when Eddie leans in. It’s not like it totally comes out of nowhere—there have been signs and things have been building—but he’s not expecting it in this moment. So, before he processes what’s happening, he jerks back. He can tell from the look on Eddie’s face, Eddie wasn’t expecting that.

Panic flashes in Steve’s chest. He opens his mouth to explain but then—

But then—

But then Eddie fucking headbutts him. What the hell?

It happens too quickly for Steve to dodge it—he only has a moment of thank fuck, he’s going to try again before their heads connect, hard enough that it hurts. Not a lot, but enough.

“Ow,” Steve says, rubbing his head, “what the hell, man?”

“What?”

“‘What?’” Steve rolls his eyes. “Why did you headbutt me?”

Eddie makes a face and shrugs.

Steve crosses his arms. “I thought you were going to…”

“Going to what?”

“Nothing,” Steve murmurs. He was sure Eddie was going to kiss him. But maybe Eddie was just being Eddie. Or, Steve thinks, glancing at Eddie sidelong, noting the look on his face, maybe he panicked after Steve panicked. Hm. “Thanks for the concussion, by the way.”

“Compliments of the house.”

“So, I guess that means no refunds or exchanges then?”

Eddie looks at Steve, searching his face. “What would you want to exchange it for?”

“Well,” Steve says, leaning toward Eddie, not missing the way Eddie’s gaze dips to his mouth, “I was thinking maybe this…” And, oh, Eddie was definitely going to kiss him. He smirks and leans in even closer and then he reaches up and he pinches Eddie’s nipple. Hard.

“Ow!” Eddie punches Steve’s shoulder. “What the fuck?”

“You headbutted me.”

“Only because you pulled away when I was going to—”

“Going to what?”

Eddie narrows his eyes, tilts his head.

And Steve can tell he’s thinking about whether or not he should tell Steve, and Steve gets it, but he’s also impatient. So, he sighs and he leans in again. Eddie blinks, and covers his chest protectively, but he doesn’t pull away. And, this time, when Steve reaches out, it’s to cup Eddie’s face. And, this time, when they lean toward each other, it’s their lips that meet. Gently and sweetly. And so so good.

“I didn’t mean to pull away,” Steve says, barely breaking the kiss.

“And I didn’t mean to headbutt you.”

Steve huffs and shoves Eddie lightly; Eddie grabs him and pulls him into another kiss. But he pulls a little too hard and they both lose their balance and end up on the floor.

The full weight of Eddie lands on Steve; Eddie presses his face into Steve’s neck, breath hot as he laughs. Steve groans. “I’m going to have to start wearing protective gear around you.”

Eddie pulls back. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“Or flat on my back.”

Eddie grins, tongue between his teeth.

Steve flushes. Before Eddie can say anything else, he shifts their weight, flipping them over.

“This works too,” Eddie says, eyes bright, a little breathless. He loops his arms around Steve’s neck, butting their foreheads together, gently now, before he leans up to bite Steve’s jaw.

Steve shakes his head—“You’re a liability”—and kisses Eddie again. He doesn’t plan on pulling away for a long time.

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2

He has no right to be here.

He knows that.

He does.

Eddie watches as people pile into the church, all of them dressed to the nines. It's a Harrington affair through and through, and the sight of all these people that he knows Steve hates makes him feel sicker than he already is.

If he wasn't on the edge of crying he would have laughed at himself, like he had any right to judge anyone here. He's the one who dumped Steve. Perfect, wonderful, lovely Steve who just needed a few more years. He just needed to make sure the kids were safe until they graduated. But Eddie couldn't do it. He needed to leave, and Steve needed to stay.

So he ended it. Just like that. He ended it.

He hasn't seen him for three years. By all appearances, it was a good choice, the best thing he could have done for himself. Because against all fucking odds Eddie Munson ends up as a success. He's a star, a famous musician discovered in a shitty little bar. He somehow managed to actually live the dream he used to fantasize about.

He lives it up. He parties, he drinks, he fucks, he spends his early twenties being young and dumb like he always wanted.

And it's horrible. It's so horrible that it becomes hilarious to him. Because he knows why it's so bad. Of course he knows. But it's better this way, really. Because Steve deserved better than him anyway. He deserved someone he didn't run away, full of flimsy excuses of wanting to be out of the shitty town that made him. When the truth was he was scared. He was terrified about how much he loved him. Because what was he going to do when the day came when Steve realized he could do better?

Eddie wouldn't have been able to surivie it. So he left instead. Like the coward he was. He left so he could be miserable and famous but at least Steve could finally find someone who deserved him.

So it really was all for the best. That's what he tells himself, because if he doesn't he'd go insane wondering about what could have been. He has himself convinced that he made the right choice. Maybe not for himself, but at least for Steve.

He doesn't realize how bullshit all of that was until Dustin lets it slip. They're doing the normal routine. Dustin visits, Eddie spoils the shit out of him, and on the last day he asks about Steve. He always tries to keep it casual. Tries to never let his desperation to know what's happening shine through. But it always does, bad enough that Dustin can't help the pity in his eyes when he tells him.

Steve's getting married.

Eddie wasn't aware just how much words could hurt him until that moment. He'd been called every bad name under the sun, a queer, a freak, a fag, you name it and it's been said. But this is the first time someone else's words make him feel like he's dying.

He wasn't invited to the wedding. Why would he be? But he still found it. Because he's a glutton for self-punishment. He hadn't seen Steve for three fucking years, and he chooses to wait till his wedding day?

But it's too late for regret, he's already here. His eyes keep scanning the room, just waiting for him to show up. He probably looks like a creep, dressed in all black and fucking sunglasses, sitting right by the door. He's basically in a fucking disguise, mostly to stop Robin from finding him and kicking his ass.

Speaking of, his eyes widen at the sight of her. She's slipping out of a door to the side, quickly wiping at her eyes before joining the crowd of people. His eyes drift back to the door.

Eddie's on his feet before he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, maybe the stupidest thing he's ever done, but where Robin is, Steve is sure to follow.

And he's right. It leads to a small dressing room. And there he is. Just like that Eddie's in front of the only man he'll ever love. Or at least, behind him. They were alone, and Steve hadn't even noticed him yet, too busy adjusting his hair in the mirror.

He still has time to leave. Besides, he didn't come here to ruin everything. He didn't, really.

But he doesn't turn around. Instead, Eddie locks the door behind him. He takes off his stupid sunglasses and clears his throat to speak, but is immediately rendered speechless when Steve turns to look at him.

He's just as gorgeous as he remembered.

His eyes widened at the sight of him, mouth opening and closing like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Why would he? Eddie never reached out. He ignored the times that Steve did, always too ashamed of himself to face his own mistakes.

Eddie always expected Steve to lash out when he saw him, if he saw him. Lord knows he deserved it. But he doesn't. He just looks...sad. And those basset hound eyes are almost enough to bring Eddie to tears himself.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, voice quiet.

Eddie hadn't actually prepared anything to say. His plan was to watch the love of his life marry someone else than drink himself into a stupor at his hotel. He...he hadn't expected to end up here. But there are a million things he wants to say to him.

I'm here to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough and I made it your problem. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Ever. There hasn't been a day that goes by when I don't regret leaving. And I thought, maybe, just maybe if I saw you move on with my own eyes I could let you go.

But none of that is what comes out of his mouth.

"Run away with me."

If Steve didn't look shocked to see him before he sure did now, "W-What?"

"Run away with me," He repeats. Because it's what he wants. It's what he needs. It's been three years of hell without him and Eddie can't do it anymore. He can't.

He hates that he's the cause of the tears springing up in Steve's eyes, but he can't take it back. He won't.

Steve looks away, eyes trained on the floor, "You can't do this to me Eddie. You can't."

But he is.

Eddie's made his choice. He was a fool to think he was capable of coming here without trying to steal him away. Of course this is where he'd end up. And he'll say anything to get him back. He doesn't care that he's too late. He doesn't care that this whole thing makes him a bigger piece of shit than he already was.

He'll be underhanded, he'll be dirty, he'll do anything to get Steve to leave with him, he doesn't fucking care. Because Steve Harrington is not going to get married today.

He waltzes right up to him. He grabs his chin and forces him to meet his eyes. He probably looks crazy, he feels crazy, "You don't love her like you love me."

He's never met her. He doesn't need to. The way Steve freezes up is all he needs to know that he's right.

He doesn't deny it, but he deflects, "Why are you doing this? You left me. Did you forget that part? I didn't end it. You did! A-And now what? We're just going to ride off into the sunset together? Like you weren't the one to just cut me out of your life-"

"Yes," Eddie interrupts. He feels calm, eerily so as he speaks, "We're riding off into the sunset together. Even though I don't deserve it. I never deserved you. And I was so fucking scared of when you would realize that. I let it eat away at me. So I left. Before you could do it to me. And I was wrong."

"Stop," Steve tries to step back, but Eddie won't let him. He wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

He can't stop talking, even if he wanted to, "I was so wrong Steve. And I've been miserable ever since. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'll never stop thinking about you. Even if you tell me to go to hell and get hitched I'll just wait for a divorce. Because you are the only one for me. And it took me too long to say that out loud. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Stevie."

Steve weakly tried to push him away, but his heart wasn't in it, "Please stop."

But he can't, "I love you."

Steve's eyes are closed, a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay, but his voice comes out strong, "Eddie, I-I can't do this again. I can't. If you left me again I...I just can't."

Eddie can't help but wipe a few of the tears away for him, "Angel, look at me."

He waits for Steve to open his eyes. He looks so fucking beautiful that it hurts, especially since this may really be the last time he sees him again.

But he has one more trick up his sleeve, "Tell me you're not mine and I'll leave."

"W-what?"

"Tell me you're not mine. Say the words out loud and I'll let you go."

Steve stares at him. He's mad, beyond pissed that Eddie has the audacity to throw that in his face, but he's desperate. It was the last thing he said to him, murmured through the driver's side window of the van, seconds before he drove away.

I'm still yours, even if you don't want me anymore.

Eddie had cried the entire ride there after hearing that. And then a few days after for good measure. And here he is, completely ruthless at what he's willing to pull out, "You're mine Steve. You know you're mine."

It's such a fucked up thing to say, but it's true. But it's not the whole truth, "And I'm yours. I've always been yours. Tell me that's not true and I'll leave."

But Steve can't. He can't do it, just like Eddie had known he wouldn't. But what he hadn't expected was for him to surge up and kiss him.

It feels like he fell in love all over again, just from one simple kiss. Because it felt like magic was real and it decided to take on the form of Steve Harrington's lips. It was everything he had missed. Everything he had dreamed about. Eddie tangled a hand into his hair, helpless to do anything but kiss him back, harder and deeper. He wanted to be burned into Steve's memory for all eternity. He wanted him to always remember the moment that they came back to each other.

Because that's what this is. Eddie's certain, Steve was his, and he would never let him go again.

They only stop when there is a knock at the door, a muffled question asked that they can't hear over the sounds of their own breathing. It's enough to have them pulling away from each other, but they ignore it nonetheless.

Steve searches his face, one last test. Eddie can only guess how he looks right now, probably just as desperate and terribly hopeful as he felt. Whatever he's looking for, he finds it eventually.

Steve sighs, glancing toward the back of the room, "There's a window we can probably fit through. Because I'm sure as hell not going out there."

Now it's Eddie's turn to cry. Despite all of his confidence, the certainty that they were supposed to be together, he hadn't really expected it to work. But here they were, giggling with each other as they scurried out of a first-floor window, making a run for Eddie's car.

Eddie can't help but kiss him again before they get in, muttering against his mouth, "I love you so fucking much Stevie. I'm not going to fuck this up again. You won't regret it, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

Steve grinned into the kiss, "You better."

There was still so much to talk about. Too much. And they'll fight and they'll scream and everything will get worse before it gets better. And Eddie's so fucking grateful to get the chance.

And for the first time in three years, he feels alive again.

[becca-e-barnes]

Can i request something where bucky has a smutty obsession with sundresses? Just the way his doll looks in them and stuff?

I've definitely written Bucky loving sundresses before but now that there's a bit of a chill in the air, I'm imagining the same sundresses but with tights underneath 😏

Having the tights keeps you a little bit warmer but it doesn't give Bucky the access he's used to. The tights are such a tease because he knows how flimsy they are but they're in the way of what he wants and that would never do.

He does love the feeling of them though. The thin material is so smooth under his fingertips, there's an attractive sheen to them and he finds he can't take his eyes off your legs, right at the hem of your dress.

"Sweetheart." Bucky's voice is firm and it makes you smile to yourself. "Come here."

He's sitting by the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and you know that he's been watching you since you came down to make your breakfast.

You peck his lips softly when you reach him, enjoying the way a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Everything okay?" You ask, letting him press his knee between your thighs, spreading your legs.

His hands land on your legs out of instinct. The silky smooth feeling does something for him that he didn't quite expect and for a second, touching you over the fabric feels just as intimate as touching your bare skin.

"I like these." Bucky teases, squeezing your ass, making you roll slightly against his thigh.

"I'm glad you like them. You need to be gentle though, you'll rip them."

That wasn't even something he'd considered but now it's all he can think about. Those perfect tights, totally ruined, your panties pushed out of the way so there's nothing between your body and his fingers.

"You've never really liked it when I'm too gentle." He reminds you and you can't help but giggle because he's right and you know it. "What if... I just ripped a hole. Right here. Between your legs." His fingers tap the apex of your thighs, through your tights and underwear and your only option is to grind down on his thigh just a little harder.

"That would ruin them." You rock your hips back and forth, enjoying the friction against his insanely muscular thigh, letting your own need build.

"I don't think so. I think it might make them better. You know I like those pretty dresses you wear. Putting that flimsy fabric in the way is just a tease." Both of his hands meet under your skirt, testing the resistance of the material when he tugs in different directions.

"Rip them." You whisper, half pleading.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, pulling harder and you feel the fabric give the whole way across with little ladders beginning to run down the legs.

"Bend over. Let me see." You do as you're told, standing up, pulling the skirt of your dress up to expose your clothed sex to him.

It's not clothed for long though, he widens the hole just a little, slipping your panties to the side to allow him to sink a finger into your wet, eager, inviting cunt, quickly followed by a second.

"Pretty little hole to fuck you through." He muses, watching you try to resist the urge to fuck yourself on his fingers, getting more and more desperate for his cock.

[caelanglang]

Gravity’s Gentleness...

Wooly Sunflowers (Eriophyllum lanatum) symbolize “Gentle Strength” 

source: Flowerpaedia by Cheralyn Darcey

This is heavily inspired by Story and Nawy’s (i’m too shy to tag them ><;;) ramble about Chuuya knowing (or not) how to be gentle... please read it! It’s so rich of brainworms and vitamin C(huuya)!!

[saotoru]

dom, switch, or sub

dante, vergil, nero, v x fem reader

minors + ageless dni

vergil- dom

what gets vergil off is knowing he has complete control of you, both mind and body. he likes to keep you in that syrupy state of fucked-out pleasure, when the only thing you can remember is his name, because that’s when you’re most honest. it’s those little reactions—the way you gasp when he sinks his fingers inside you, your back arching against his chest—that drive him crazy. he grips your jaw, lips brushing your ear as he growls, “you’re mine.”

your pussy responds for him, clenching tightly around his fingers and that’s all vergil needs to know that he owns you. he’s satisfied with how you gasp and grind onto his hand, driven by the raw instinct to feel good. and he lets you, slowly pumping his long fingers inside the plush heat of your cunt, reveling in the way you fall apart for him. you turn your face towards his, lips brushing against his cheek as you look at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes.

“vergil.” you grip his wrist tightly. “please.”

“greedy,” he teases. but his fingers move faster all the same, pussy squelching loudly as he fucks you hard, leaning down to pressing his mouth against yours, muffling those pretty sounds that only he can pull from you.

dante- switch

you want nothing more than to reach to his cock where it’s leaking all over his abdomen, so flushed and pretty and twitching with every flick of his tongue, but dante won’t let you. his arms lock around your thighs, forcing you to sit still on his face and just watch his cock beg for attention.

“dante…” you whine. between your plush thighs around his head and his loud slurping, he can’t hear your pleas, too absorbed in licking all over your pussy to notice you’re trying to take care of what he ignores- his own needs. you want to feel him in your hand so badly, hear his groan when you rub the sensitive head the way he likes and fuck, taste his salty precum. but all dante feels is you trying to squirm away from his mouth and he doesn’t understand why, furrowing his brows in concentration. “god, baby, stay fuckin’ still, taste so fuckin good and you’re just moving-“

a groan cuts him off feeling your fingers brush his cock and wrap around him, pumping. the sudden rush of pleasure only has dante lapping at you harder, sloppier, needy to feel you cum on his face for being such a good fucking girl, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. all too soon your hand goes limp around his cock as an orgasm wracks through you and reduces you to nothing more than a spasming, fucked-out mess. dante slows to just languid, broad licks all over your lips, but doesn’t stop completely.

“again, pretty girl. not done with you. not done with this perfect fucking pussy.”

nero- sub

nero loves being dommed. tease him, edge him, or worse, praise him, and he’ll be a mess underneath you. he tries to hide how much he loves being spread out and told to touch himself, furrowing his brow and grumbling about how embarrassing this is, but he obeys all the same, carefully wrapping a hand around his cock and pumping himself slowly. the heaviness of your gaze, the way you tell him “faster”—nero can feel himself going dumb, and he knows you own him completely.

“you’re leaking so much, nero. you’re so pretty, you know that?” god, your voice. you know praise makes him needy, makes him fuck up into his fist even faster. he can’t even form a response, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, feeling his orgasm building embarrassingly fast from being talked to like this.

he’s close. you can tell from how his thighs tense and he’s starting to squirm, pumping himself so fast that his fist is a blur over his cock. a smile plays at your lips as you watch him become unraveled, so so close to cumming that’s he’s panting your name until-

“stop.”

it takes a few beats for the command to register in his mind, that you don’t want him to cum, and nero nearly doesn’t listen. but he knows better, he’s a good boy, so he lets go of his cock with a pathetic whine, humping at nothing in the air. the the tension in his tummy ebbs away, but he’s still flushed and leaking all over himself because he loves being told what to do.

v- sub-lean switch

v loves soft, tender sex. be gentle with him, kiss his neck while you stroke him softly and v will be in heaven, wondering what he ever did to deserve you. a shudder goes through him feeling your tongue trace the tattoos on his chest. “a-angel… you’re so perfect, feels so good…” he breathes.

if v does dom, he’ll be a service dom, solely focused on your comfort and pleasure alone. he cups your pussy, softly stroking up and down your labia. “is this okay, sweetheart?” he asks. you let out a whimper, but his hand doesn’t budge—he needs to hear an explicit answer, fingers barely grazing over your aching clit. “tell me.”

“y-yes, v, please…"

you don't have to finish your sentence for v to give you what you want, a finger parting your folds to spread your slick around that sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing slow circles that have you keening into him. this time, words aren’t enough for v, he wants to feel how much he loves you.

[harunefrog]

I drew a thing!!! You know this one!!!

[unstablewifiaccess]

Please help me get working on my WIP again!

For every note this post gets, I’ll add 100 words to my draft. For every ask, 200.

[michaeljoncarter]

it really is starting to feel like every single person at dc has somehow just completely forgotten how storytelling works on a fundamental level. like i genuinely believe 99% of the problems they’re having could be solved if all the writers and the entire editorial staff was forced to take a middle school reading class

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[autogynephagy]

It is 8:03 AM where I am. I woke up at 6 on the dot and I have been so horny that I'm manually breathing ever since. I am thinking about the aftermath of my previous writeup. Dadcon, vomit. Below the cut.

You stumble back inside, your pants and underwear abandoned on the porch. It's late. You're exhausted and dripping your new siblings, and you'd usually hate the warm and sticky sensation on your thighs, but you can't focus on that.

You feel your stomach churn. The alcohol in your system is not agreeing with you. Your mouth floods with saliva as you race into the bathroom, and within moments of reaching it, you're bent over the porcelain. Hot bile, unprocessed beer and whiskey, all quickly pouring up from your esophagus and out over your tongue. It drips from your nose as the force of the action makes your father's climax leak faster from the hole he used. You wish you could be sad about losing it, but something else grabs your attention--

You're breathing hard, trying to recover, when you hear your father reenter the home. His footsteps shake the floor beneath you. "You alright'n there, kid?" he calls. You despair as the footsteps get louder, come closer, with you so vulnerable and bared. "D-don't-" You try, but trying to speak loudly makes you feel like you're going to puke again. So you resign yourself.

You hear the footsteps stop behind you, and your father chuckles. "I told you to clean up, n'here you are makin' a bigger mess," he chides. "Need some help?"

But he doesn't wait for an answer. He kneels behind you. Strong, calloused hands meet your flesh and draw lower quickly, before two fingers press wetly into you. "Can't have you losing all this," he murmurs. You close your eyes as his hand begins to move. His fingers draw back and pull out briefly, just to push his cum back into you.

You shiver and gag again. You feebly hope he wouldn't notice, but he does, and next thing you know, his other hand is on your jaw, and two more thick fingers press past your lips. Over your tongue, tasting of sweat and beer and the dusty wood of the porch table, before meeting the back of your throat and flicking over your uvula. "Go on, kid, get this out of you. You'll feel way better," he says. Your eyes shut tighter, and you are undone; you feel your walls clench around his fingers, now moving faster inside you, as a heavy river of vomit covers his fingers and hand. It seems to last ages since he won't stop playing with your throat all through it. "There ya go. That feels better, don't it?" he croons. Alcohol and bile burn your nostrils and the taste lingers on your tongue. Tears spill over your cheeks as his hands relent, the one in your mouth pulling back as the fingers within you slow. "I'd make more of a mess of you if I didn't have work in the morning. Tomorrow, I'll find you after, 'kay? Take a shower and brush your teeth," he tells you, pulling his hands away and standing. He uses his elbow to turn on the faucet, washes his hands, and leaves you. You're a mess on the bathroom floor. You know you're going to be hungover as all hell tomorrow, but all you can do right now is follow orders.