#like the other stuff that happened was nice and all but my brain is stuck on strong women

[blueish-bird]

sorry if I don’t remember your name or conversations/experiences or basic things about myself, every few weeks my brain gets factory reset and I have to relearn how to be alive

[captain-yousoro]

Why is every single female mandalorian so fucking hot. Jesus christ watching the armorer just completely obliterate the imperial soldiers with her hammer mid air has me going crazy. And the one mandalorian that slid on some landing bay to dodge bullets hello hi I want to see more of you. And don't even get me started on Bo

[zarla-s]

Do you get anxious whenever you start drawing comic pages? Is that connected to ending of Handplates? It's like you're trying to find any random activity to avoid drawing comics. And your usual sketches get less and less dialogue. I'm asking because I'm worried and I don't know what's happening. D:

Hmm... I haven't really thought of things in these terms? I was like "eh that can't be right" but then I did a quick look back and it does look like I've been doing solo shots or single/two panel comics for a while, haha. I've just got a lot of small ideas or images I wanted to get out recently. And I've been writing a lot of fic! Which I haven't done in a while, which is nice. Writing a fic (particularly lengthy ones, like the Hell jailbreak or the hanahaki one) is a lot more time consuming than people might think. I started the hanahaki one in early December and only just posted it a few days ago...

I was doing Handplates for such a long time, like seven+ years and all, that I'm assuming the vast majority of you out there never really knew me when I wasn't doing it. The thing is that Handplates is a massive outlier - I never did any project of that scale before, or one that updated that consistently or took that much constant effort. Never! Most of the time before when I'd start a big project I'd get distracted and never finish it, or there'd be huge hiatuses between updates (Vargas). It was super weird to have such a big project I so consistently updated and worked on. It's not common for me! I'm amazed looking back on it all that I was so committed to it when so many other ones fell flat.

Handplates took up a LOT of my time, so with it over I've been doing some other things I wouldn't have had much time for before. Playing some games, taking screencaps, writing fic, web design, little small experiments like all my pixel stuff. Just trying out different things! I don't think I'd say I was anxious about doing a comic page... it's more so that I'm just tired, I think. I was doing these huge elaborate pages that'd take days to finish for so long - now that I don't have to do it anymore, my brain just wants to relax, haha.

The reason for the slow updates on Defrag is really that I keep getting stuck lol. It's not really focused like Handplates and I still don't really know how it'll end. I keep getting stuck on what should happen next, so I keep putting it off. It's just me being a lazy writer rather than having anxiety about doing a page. |D

At least, I think that's what it is...

[joels-shitty-puns]

Kings & Queens

Pairing: Post-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: I saw a list of reverse writing tropes, one of which was "too many beds" which I thought was hilarious until my brain went crazy. So here's where my mind went when there are oddly... too many beds.

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: None! This could even be read as platonic.

Other stuff: No descriptors. It can be romantic or friendly. Choose your adventure.

To those of you who are reading this: Thank you! I know I haven't written in months. I have barely even been on here. I want that again, but mentally I just haven't been feeling like much of anything lately. That being said, I saw the trope and I had an idea and quickly scribbled this down. It is short, not my best work, and doesn't have much emotion, but I did it :) To those of you who might also be struggling, I see you! You'll get through this. I hope all my tumblr buddies are doing well. I miss you guys.

_________________________________

It had been nearly a year of patrols with Joel. A year of nasty buildings and hard rocky floors to take shelter for the night, a year of either taking turns on watch, or being stuck sharing the same sleeping bag. Or the same mattress. Your only reprieve was your nice bed in Jackson, which you knew was safe, and warm, and most importantly… yours.

Joel was… alright. You two were friendly at best. But for the most part, it was all business. He didn't like to talk much, and you became tired of receiving looks or grunts when asking about Ellie, or Tommy, or his former life. But you worked well together, you made a good team, and you trusted each other to stay safe. You had run into trouble before, and you always had each other's backs. Words were often left unsaid, but you both knew what you meant to the other.

So when you stumbled upon an abandoned shopping mall while scoping potential areas of left-behind goods, it was a breath of fresh air. Malls could be dangerous with so much ground to cover, and so many potential hiding places and dark corners for the cordyceps to fester.

But the mall could also be a light at the end of the tunnel. A plethora of abandoned items to loot and sell or keep for yourself.

After hours of digging through every nook and cranny, you managed to fill a couple of bags full of items, and planned to make it a regular stop on your raids. But as the time grew later, the long-broken clock didn't tick on, and the windows grew dim, you knew it would be an overnight stay. However, choosing a sleeping spot was becoming exhausting with Joel around.

“I saw a sporting goods store. They probably have some sleeping bags, or maybe even a tent,” you provided.

“Nah, we're indoors. I wanna sleep like I'm indoors,” gruffed Joel.

“Oookay. How about that old food place? I think I saw a conveyer belt in the kitchen, next to the oven! It looks like it was used to make pizza,” you chirped excitedly. “I bet we could set up some blankets and make it like a bed.”

“Look, I know that machinery and oven have been dead for years, but on the off chance there's some malfunction, that just seems like a Final Destination event waitin’ to happen,” Joel shook his head.

“Wow you're difficult..” you huffed. “What if we go into the old children's photography studio and make a fort! The walls are even painted to look like a sky,” you offered with doe-eyes.

Joel just looked at you before grumbling back a “no. My back would kill me. There's gotta be a bed in here somewhere.”

Upon finding an old, faded mall map, Joel studied it before picking up the pace with a clear destination in mind.

He came to a stop in front of “Royal Mattressty.”

You raised a brow before saying “royal… mattress-tea?? What?”

“It's a play on words. Royal majesty.” 

“That's the stupidest thing I ever heard,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, no, it's because mattresses come in Kings, Queens, and-” he broke off at your grimace.

“You're such a dad!” 

____

The two of you made your way inside, only to find nearly 100 beds. Memory foam, spring, water, reclining… the possibilities were endless.

“WOW!” You squealed, running from bed to bed. “There's too many beds. I can't choose!”

Joel stretched, moving to a bed near the back corner. “I'm gonna set up here for the night. Sleep where y’want,” he gestured.

Sitting on a few different beds, you finally settled on one. A perfect, firm yet soft bed at the far end of the store. It was against a wall, allowing you to still see the door and keep your back safe. Perfect.

____

But as the night ticked on, you tossed and turned. You weren't at your home in Jackson. This bed was nice… but it wasn't your safe, cozy cabin.

When you aren't home, you're with Joel. All this time you've been wanting space at night, but now you feel scared and alone. Even a bit cold. But Joel was over on his own bed, probably sound asleep. You wouldn't dare take that away from him.

___

Until what felt like an hour passed.

___

And then another hour…

___

Finally, it had been about an hour and a half when you gave in. You wouldn't be getting any sleep at this rate. Fatigue is a dangerous fate when you need to be alert in this world. So you swallowed your pride and walked over to Joel's bed in the far end of the store.

But he wasn't there…

You wandered back, a bit nervous, until you spotted him. Curled up on a mattress only a row away from yours, you saw him blink in the night.

“You moved beds?” you whispered.

“Yeah, there was a draft over there…”

“A draft? In a mall with no electricity and no windows in this store?” You asked skeptically.

“Mmhm…” he grunted, sleepily.

“Sure. Well… turns out there was a draft over in my corner too. Move over,” you nudged.

“Draft, huh?” He wiggled over, letting you in the bed.

“Mmhm…” you mimicked his earlier grunt, settling in next to him.

“Good night Joel,” you whispered.

“G’night,” he replied, pressing his body closer to yours in the king sized bed.

Maybe there is such a thing as too many beds after all.

__________

Thanks for reading!!! Let me know what you think, and be sure to check out my masterlist for more. Reblogs are appreciated! Xoxo

[anantaru]

𝗔𝗪𝗞𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗧 !

˖˚˳⊹ awkward sex moments feat. itto : heizou : ayato x fem! reader

˖˚˳⊹ warnings: nsfw : crack

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗢

Bed shaking angrily while the headboard slammed multiple times against the wall behind it, echoes of lewd noises bouncing off the room. Your legs thrown lazily over Itto's shoulders as he recklessly pounded into your perfect little cunt he so very much desired. You were barely comprehending anything anymore, far too gone from the immense pleasure he inflicted on your body while chanting his name like a lost prayer.

You just needed a way to hold onto something for support, though you didn't actually mind getting wrecked like a rag doll every once in a while. Though from one moment to the other Itto had stopped moving completely. More so he was desperately trying to get away from you, basically pushing himself off the headboard as you had a complete dumbstruck expression painted across your face, for a moment thinking if you did something wrong or hurt him.

"Itto, are you okay?" you saw the distress and frustration in his eyes as you suddenly noticed where he was looking at, glancing over the headboard yourself, "My stupid horns got stuck into the stupid headboard, I can't get them stupid out please help me." YOU TRIED to take the situation seriously but broke completely down in tears from all the laughing he caused you, "OUCH! it hurts, help me!"

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗭𝗢𝗨

Your bodies were in sync, your hips giving Heizou enough space to fuck your brains out, and he did. One of his hands held onto your thigh to keep you in place while the other one was holding onto your neck, holding you in a light chokehold but without actually inflicting pain on you. He just couldn't understand how he got this horny today. Listen, you're always making him go crazy but today was feeling different. He was much more sensitive than usual, and his cock was so unbelievably hard and angry, knowing he won't hold out much longer and bury all his seed into you greedily.

The passion that went through Heizou's mind took over his body in an instant as he moved over in lightning speed towards your face to kiss you, literally lightning speed because the moment he did, a weird sound occurred to the both of you and it wasn't any weird moan or anything. More likely did it sound like someone bowling in a bowling alley and hitting a strike.

"Ouch! Heizou what the hell! You headbutted me!" you rubbed your hand against your forehead, a small red dot appearing right in the middle of it. "I‘m sorry I-" Heizou was at loss of words, for a brief second he couldn't comprehend a single thing and just looked at you like a lost puppy.

But how you rubbed your forehead while narrowing your brows to adjust to the pain he just started laughing at you, it was way too hilarious. The situation was only awkward if you made it one so you whined out laughingly at him while continuing to rub the red spot. Heizou quickly threw the blanket over your naked bodies and kissed your forehead all lovingly, whispering a soft - 'm sorry, got too excited - into your ear.

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗧𝗢

It didn't happen often that Ayato would be home early, normally he'd always come home way too tired in the middle of the night at some random hour. But tonight was different, because he took off time just to see you! Lets face it, the both of you haven't seen each other in a while since he was busy with his duties and you had your own stuff coming up, in short, you couldn't wait to get your hands on each other.

Not even remembering how you got bend over so fast, it almost happened in a heartbeat. Ayato's hands both laid flat on your butt as he thrusted into you, balls slapping against your ass while you held onto the headboard for support. Your juices were coating him so fucking nicely as a soft white ring began to appear on his cock, which made him realize you were very much close, as he was.

Ayato picked up on pace in an instant, pushing your body against the mattress even further and fucking your brains out. You held onto the fresh bedsheets as you screamed his name so fucking desperately and ready to orgasm all over him when you heard him curse out in between hard breaths. "Ah." he pulled out instantly as you turned around, overly confused with what had happened as you watched your lover hold onto his thigh, "I got a cramp, shit."

You tried to hold back your emotions for a second but bursted out laughing regardless, hiding your mouth with your hand. "Stop laughing." he responded while breaking down laughing himself. "That really hurts, i'm being serious."

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tulip

A/N: listen, I just wanted the vibes, I didn't feel like fleshing out a whole and complete story, just stuck to the nice images floating up in my brain noggin.

summary: "...that we all just wanna be happy, want each other to be happy, so that’s just what we should do, be happy together..."

warnings: Steve Harrington x reader x Eddie Munson, just vibes without a plot, kinda love triangle, polyamory, kissing (so many sloppy, messy kisses), allusion to masturbation, unprotected sex, threesome, dirty talk, praise, fingering, oral sex, blowjob, handjob, tiny bit of impact play, penetrative sex, tiny bit of size kink (it's canon, Steve is fat af), let's be honest it's mostly just a bunch of cuddlefucking, reader being blind with love, Eddie being a chaotic little bean and Steve being the "grown-up" in the dynamic

word count: 3681

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Running up to greet your neighbour, like clockwork, your stomach was filled with thousands of butterflies, “Eddie! When did you get back?”

Pulling you into a hug, he lifted you a few inches off the grass, and beamed into your hair, “not that long ago.”

“We missed you here,” you hummed, closing your eyes, and breathing in his familiar scent.

Pulling back, he kept one of his hands on your shoulder, huge grin still plastered on his face.

“So,” it was still summer, why did his rings still feel so cool against your skin? “are you like some big-time rock star now?”

“Nah,” his thumb played with the strap of your tank top, “it was just a few small dive bars across Indiana. Not exactly CBGB,” he loosened his grip, ghosting his fingers down your arm before disappearing completely, assuring that your body was completely covered in goosebumps if you weren’t already, “but what about you? How was your summer?”

“Oh, nothing crazy,” you sucked in a sharp breath of air at the loss of contact, “mostly just worked a lot…”

Gliding his vision over your form as you crossed your arms, he bit his lip in an effort not to smirk at what he asked next, “and how’s Steve?”

“Steve?” your eyes grew wide, “h-how would I know?”

“News travel fast here in Hawkins,” he breathed out, leaning back against the picnic table behind him, then added with a sly grin, never taking his eyes off you, “also we are next-door neighbours and the walls on a trailer are not very thick…”

“Oh my god…” your hands shot up to cover the tomato that was now your face, “oh my god!”

“I had no idea you could make those noises…” he kept going, clearly having a field day with this.

“Eddie, please,” you groaned into your palms.

“Yes?” he grinned.

“Don’t… you-,” you pealed your hands off your face and stared determinately up at the clouds, not daring to look at him for even a second, “can you just pretend you didn’t hear any of it?”

“I don’t know if I can do that, sweetheart,” the dungeon master clasped his hands together, interlocking the fingers, making his metal rings clang together, “and I am really fucking good at playing pretend.”

Taking a deep breath, you winced slightly, “please don’t say stuff like that…”

“Why? Because you’ll stick your big strong boyfriend on me?” then added in a voice dripping in sarcasm, “ohh, so scared. What’s he gonna do? Style my hair?”

You already had your suspicions that you still weren’t over your agonising and ancient crush on your next-door neighbour, but this just confirmed your theory in the most mortifying of ways.

Finally backing off, he stopped snickering and asked, “so how did it happen anyways? You and him.”

“Why do you all of a sudden wanna braid each other's hair and talk about boys?” you finally looked at him.

“You’ve just never had a boyfriend like that before, colour me curious.”

“Yeah, well if you look past all the hairspray and the charm, he might just surprise you,” he certainly had surprised you. Sure, you’d known him for years, gone to the same school, but he’d always just been the popular boy in your eyes and nothing more, honestly thought he was kind of a dick at first, but then the two of you happened to have the same summer job and everything changed. To say that he wooed you was an understatement. To be quite frank, he’d given you a summer romance worthy of being transcribed into a book with Fabio on the cover. He had made you fall in love with him. Just, until now, you had assumed that those feeling would have somehow cancelled out the long-festering ones you had for Eddie, but alas, seems that wasn’t how it worked.

Still whining softly, you came down from your self-induced euphoric high.

Yep, you were still very much in love with him alright! Damn it. Why couldn’t it just be simple and clean, one person at a time, but no! Clearly not! The sight of his figure now occupying your bedroom window’s view once more had driven you over the edge and had been enough of a spark to give you one of the best orgasms you’d had on your own in a long time.

“Well, that was… wow,” someone uttered, and you ripped your wet fingers out from your underwear and sat straight up in the bed, jumping at the sight of your boyfriend standing in the doorway, mouth agape.

“How long have you been standing there?” did you hear me moan out a different name than yours?

“Long enough,” he breathed out, the raging hard-on in his slacks being clear as day, “although, now I really wish I had been here just a little sooner. Could have given you the real deal to drool over instead of being stuck using your memory,” he crept closer.

“Who says that I'm done?” you tried to filter out your still active spank bank.

Situating yourself at the foot of the bed, kneeling, he stared down at you, parts of his perfect hair flopped forward, sheltering his dark eyes. Reaching out, caressing your glowing cheek, he skimmed the pad of his thumb over your lips and you kissed it softly.

“The stamina on you, babe. It’s enough for a whole football team to have fun with and you’d probably still ask for seconds,” finding his zipper, you tugged on it, getting one layer closer. Slipping his thumb inside your mouth, letting your tongue explore the familiar digit, he muttered, “you drive me fucking crazy…”

Practically drooling over the way Eddie’s fingers moved over the strings of his guitar, you sat close enough to see every single vein pop out, straining against the difficult riff. Practically laying down on his messy bed, his eyes were locked on the instrument itself, seemingly unaware of your hungry eyes, properly thinking you were still reading the magazine in your lap.

“So… what’s the new trend this fall?” he glanced up at you and you tried your best to act quick, avert your gaze, and look back down at the colourful pages.

“Um,” you scrambled your brain for some answer that wasn’t just about how hot he looked right now. Those hands… fuck. Those skilful fucking hands… The first thing your eyes caught sight of was a puffy, purple dress, so that’s what you blurted out, completely flustered, “purple.”

“Hm, interesting,” he plucked away at the strings, then suggested, “you know, if you want to, I could drive you to the mall.”

“Why? You hate the mall.”

“But I don’t hate you,” he stated, looking up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

Exhaling deeply, “I don’t hate you either Eddie…”

“Oh, I am very aware of how much you don’t hate me,” he ripped his eyes away from the ceiling to flash you a knowing smirk. His song suddenly stopped, as he sat up straight, fixated on something on your face, “wait, just-, you have a little-,“ and two of his fingers plucked a hair away that unbeknownst to you had stuck to your lip, “there,” he let out a sigh of relief and tucked that and a few more hairs behind your ear, “that was fucking killing me and I just couldn’t stop myself from fixing it.”

One second, he was just sitting there, guitar in lap, a hand in your hair, innocently playing with it, but what happened next felt like being struck by lightning. Suddenly, his lips pressed against yours and he kissed you. Eddie kissed you. It was much softer, gentler than you’d imagined he would kiss you, especially for the first time. You’d always thought it would be all or nothing with him every time, but no, surprisingly, the cocky bastard wasn’t like that.

Pulling back, he swiped his thumb over your cheek and looked at you dreamily.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, desperately wanting to go dive back in for more, but then thoughts of Steve found you and your head slumped down, “fuck.”

“I gotta know, how long has it been?”

“What?” you looked up at him in utter shock.

“What, you didn’t think I knew? Honey, you aren’t that subtle at hiding your feelings.”

“I-… Eddie…”

Taking a deep breath, he looked you over once more, and guessed quietly, “you still like him, huh?”

“Yeah… but I-“

“Like I said, not subtle at hiding your feelings,” he cut you off, scooting further away from you on the mattress, “It’s okay. All I want for you is to be happy and if that means Steve, then that’s fine by me.”

“Eddie…”

“It’s fine,” he rushed out, “I’m fine, promise.”

“Do you like him?” Steve asked hesitantly, looking down at your comparatively small hand, how it was engulfed in his.

“Yeah… I never really stopped…”

Eddie had been your first serious crush. He was your neighbour. He was funny and sweet and kind. He had just kissed you! Of course, you liked him.

“Do you-… do you still like me?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, never doubting it for a moment, “I never stopped.”

“So, you like him… but also me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly.

“Okay… okay,” you could see the gears turning.

“…okay?”

“I’ll be back later,” he let go of your hand and got up, “I need to go talk to him.”

“You, what?”

Stopping in his tracks, he spun around, rushed to you, and bent down to give you a kiss. Raising a hand to touch his forearm, you let out a shaky sigh against his lips.

Pulling back, he took a deep breath, then stated quietly, “I love you,” then turned back to his determent mission, “wait for me to get back, okay? Wait right here,” and vanished out the door.

“Good morning!” a singsongy voice woke you from your slumber.

“Munson, it’s like 2 am.”

“So, what, you want me to wake her with an ominous good evening? Uh! I should remember that for my next campaign, that could be creepy as fuck.”

Blinking your eyes open, you squinted up at not just the man who had promised his return, but also an unexpected visitor.

“Hey,” you gave a soft smile.

“Hey, babe,” Steve breathed out, sitting on the bed beside you, while Eddie hovered in the background of your still sleepy eye line.

Slowly sitting up, you took a moment to look from one to the other, inspecting if there was any danger at play, but all you saw were just bright smiles. “So, I’m guessing you two didn’t kill each other?”

“No,” Steve informed you, stroking your hair, properly taking care of some of your sleep-induced frizz. He then looked back at Eddie, “we just had a long talk…”

“Yeah…” he agreed slowly.

Why did they look so buddy-buddy all of a sudden, “…talk?”

“Yep,” Steve nodded.

“Turns out,” Eddie joined you on the bed, “we’ve got more in common than you might think,” he fiddled with his rings, spinning one of them around his finger.

“Really?” you hugged your knees to your chest.

“Mhm,” Steve hummed, “just to save you from a long-winded description of every little thing we talked about, the important takeaway is that we both care about you a lot and want you to be happy. We want to make you happy. So then we came up with an idea-“

“Well,” Eddie interjected, “I came up with it, I suggested it.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s not the important part-“

“But I did, I just think she deserves to know that-”

“And now she does!”

“So, um,” you sat there and carefully observed the looks they shoot at each other, “what is this idea?”

“Yeah, it’s, um…” Steve started, “that we all just wanna be happy, want each other to be happy, so that’s just what we should do, be happy together.”

Furrowing your brow, you breathed out a tiny chuckle, “do you mean-“

“That we all just bang?” Eddie interjected with a grin, “that’s one word for it, sure.”

“Seriously?”

“What? Do you not want to?” Steve’s hand came to rest on your knee.

“No, that’s not what I was saying, it’s just a pretty serious thing, so I, um, I can’t really tell if this is all just some elaborate joke or am I dreaming right now? I’m totally dreaming!” leaning forward, Eddie reached under the duvet and pinched you, “ow! Hey!”

Doing a double take at the stink eye he received from Steve, Eddie clarified, “see, not a dream.”

“You could have just told me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” he smiled, obviously taking it as an excuse to touch you.

“So,” Steve gathered your attention back up, “if you’re in, then we are as well.”

“Both of you?” you searched their eyes.

“Yes,” they both chimed.

“Really?” you jumped slightly in your seat, making the blanket fall from your body.

“Yeah, really,” Eddie confirmed.

And with that, you tackled them both in a big hug, giggling as their backs hit the mattress. Closing your eyes, you felt kisses begin to bloom on each side of your face. Turning your head, you first caught the lips of Steve, then turned to kiss Eddie, whose fingers were already tangled in your hair.

Soon, the kissing and cuddling turned into more. You were now sprawled out, your back leaning against Steve’s warm chest, and with Eddie's head between your legs, eagerly pushing your blue, floral nightgown up well above your hips.

“Jesus fuck, if only you knew the amount of times I’ve dreamt about this,” he nibbled at your thighs.

Gliding a hand down to palm your left breast, Steve kissed your neck, effectively starting a fight with your eyelids to make them stay open and actually experience the glorious sight in front of you and not just feel it. “He doesn’t even know the half of it yet, I’m telling you, man, once you start, you can’t ever stop, she’s like a drug…”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t mind illicit substances, do you, Eddie?” you grinned, watching closely as his face greeted your clothed cunt with a blissful peck over the small soaked spot, then promptly hooked his fingers into the sides of your light underwear and tugged them down, tossing them over his shoulder.

“Drugs? Me?” he joked dramatically, “well, I would never. I have never done anything illegal in my entire life! I am just as innocent as a little baby,” his eyes locked with yours as he ran his palm back up your leg until it met your bare core. When you let out a genuine laugh, he exclaimed, “oh, fuck, remind me to make you laugh one day when I’m inside of you, please, holy fuck would it feel incredible.”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you if you wanna get I clearer picture-“ your giggle became more breathy as he sank his long middle finger into you, groaning at the way your joy made your walls clench down around him.

“Fuck,” he dove in head first, not being able to wait any longer, needing a taste. Growling something incoherent against your clit, your jaw hung loose, and you found one of Steve’s arms for support, digging your nails into it, surely leaving a few crescent marks in its wake.

Feeling Steve’s knuckles gently tilt your chin up in his direction, he kissed you, swallowing your moans on his tongue. Gradually rotating your upper body to face him more, it didn’t take long for Eddie to peak up, notice your twisted form, and then swiftly flip your hips around, detaching himself just for that moment before going back in.

Pulling your knees up under you, you felt Eddie's hands wrap around your hips. No, it wasn’t just his hands. He was basically hugging you, pulling your hips up and closer to his face.

Moving your sloppy kisses away from Steve’s sweet lips, with one hand he pulled his t-shirt over his head, and you started trailing your messy pecks down his neck, shoulder, chest, abdomen, and soon your nose was pressed into his happy trail, smiling as he tugged the rest of his layers off for you.

Smiling so hard that your face almost hurt, you wrapped your fingers around the thick length presented in front of your grin, but before you could do anything more, you felt two of Eddie’s fingers curl inside you, making your eyes roll and your back arch.

“Stick out your tongue baby,” you felt one of Steve’s hands run through your hair and the other join your right one at the base of his cock. Tapping his heavy dick on your outspread tongue, he sucked in a sharp breath, “Yeah, that’s my girl.”

Pulling away, you suddenly lost the toe-curling contact of Eddie's tongue and fingers. Getting back up, he just stared for a while, completely hypnotised, and leisurely took his dark clothes off.

As you began to swallow Steve whole, you felt a sharp whack hit your glimmering pussy and then a pair of hands yank your ass back up into position. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Eddie moved in close, tapping the leaking head of his cock teasingly against your screaming clit. “Just begging for me to come in a play… would be so easy to just-” and he sank into you, causing you to moan filthily around Steve’s length. “Jesus fuck, yes!”

This was something straight out of a dream. They were both inside you, filling you up. Holy shit, the fact that this was actually real life made you feel like you were gonna pass out in the best way.

Rings digging into your skin, Eddie used your hips at first to fuck himself on you, effectively pulling your lips from Steve and letting your blissful sounds run free.

Blinking up at Steve, he reached down to cradle your face, moving close to kiss your cheek sweetly, “you like that, huh? You like the way Eddie feels inside of you?”

Sliding one hand down to palm your boobs, somewhat stopping the way Eddie's thrusts made them jiggle wildly, you whimpered, “y-yes.”

“Yeah, you do? Are you gonna cum?” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “cream all over his big dick, huh?”

As Eddie’s palm came down on your ass, all you did was nod and screw your eyes shut.

“There you go, there you go, baby, that’s it,” Steve smiled at your bliss.

Letting out a shaky breath, your knees didn’t just threaten to give out, but actually did when Eddie pulled out of your still quivering cunt. Flopping down on the mattress, the boys didn’t leave you lying there long before hugging you close and pulling you further up the bed, keeping you safe and warm in between them.

Keeping your eyes closed, you felt Steve’s stomach against your spine, making his breaths deliberately clear for you to copy.

“You good, Y/n?” Eddie scooted closer to you, kissing your nose.

“Yeah, I’m perfect,” you smiled, resting a hand on his chest, “just really r-… re-…”

“…Relaxed?” he suggested the word out brain was too fogged up to recall.

“Yes, relaxed…”

Lazily grinding into your backside, it almost felt accidental that Steve slipped inside of you at the moment he did, not that you were complaining, they gave you enough time and cuddles to coax your body back to them, making you starved for more.

Dipping his head down, Eddie buried his face in your tits, capturing one of the hard nipples between his teeth. You could feel him fucking his fist, being pressed all the way up against you, occasionally nudging the tip up against your sensitive clit.

“God, you’re so fucking cute!” Eddie squealed and nipped your boob.

“Being such a good girl for us,” Steve groaned in your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up.

“Making all those gorgeous sounds,” Eddie chimed in, “you’d think you were the musician.”

Letting out a meek giggle, “you know I can’t sing for shit,” unintentionally clenching down on Steve’s cock in the process.

“Shit, you’re fucking choking me, baby,” he gasped, snaking his arms around your waist, hugging you tighter.

“Shut up,” Eddie jumped slightly, quickly forgetting about the comfort of your boobs, “shut up! I said I wanted to feel that!” his genuine eagerness and childlike jealousy only made your giggle evolve into an actual laugh, almost stopping Steve’s ramming completely.

“No, seriously dude, if you keep making her laugh like that, I’m gonna cum,” Steve pleaded.

One hand found Eddie’s face and you brought it down, first giving him a slow, soft kiss in a successful attempt at silencing the comment that was about to fly off his tongue, then when his mind was effectively melted, you reached down your other hand to help his feverish jerking, all the while still giving him the most tranquil of make outs.

Keeping his own fingers around the base, you stroked the rest of his length, rubbing the tip up against you, gathering more of your arousal and soaking his dick even more.

Feeling the high grow, you saw the edge of the cliff right there, you could taste it, you were so close. Steve’s size had long ago stopped being a surprise to you, but at this moment, this very moment, holy fuck did he stretch you out in the best fucking way, successfully making you see stars. Big dipper, little dipper, Orion's belt! All of the constellations, clear as day.

Trembling in between them, your head bowed down low, curling in on yourself as you cried out in pleasure.

Feeling in that exact moment Steve cum as well, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and filled you up, pumping against your throbbing walls.

It didn’t take long either for Eddie to follow suit, panting, you opened your eyes just in time to look down and see him paint your messy cunt his hot load.

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[dairy-farmer]

Please consider: Split personality Jason where Jason sees Tim as a little brother, but the Lazarus Pit is infatuated with him.

Jason tries to do the whole Attack on Titan Tower thing, but the second he leaves eyes on Tim with pit madness, the Pit falls in love. Maybe the Pit absorbs some of the memories / personality of the people that are dipped in it, and has absorbed some of Ra's creepy obsession towards Tim. Or maybe it just sees how beautiful and brave and strong he is. The Pit wants to be near him, touch him, hold him kiss him fuck him. And while Jason may not want to kill him anymore, he definitely doesn't seem Tim the same way.

Personally I would love it in this situation if the Pit gently dub-cons or non-cons Tim, possibly without Jason knowing, and Tim can't say anything because he doesn't want to break up the family or scare Jason away from the batfam.

!!!!!!! so there's this horror movie from the last decade which is about possession and there was this really amazing scene- i honestly don't remember the rest of the movie or even thinking it was that good but this scene sticks out in my head and it's where the character that is possessed is a young girl and a bunch of stuff happens so she's sent for an MRI. during the procedure her mother and sister are in the adjoining room with the doctors who are running the machine and slowly, bit by bit, the scan is coming in with each picture presenting a more composite scan of the body. and the sister is watching as it happens and she can see in the scan, the face and body of an entire person curled up in her sister's abdominal cavity. that scene!!! was so chilling!!! it stuck in my brain even years later!!!!! i love the idea of rather than jason having a split personality, he is sort of kind of possessed by the pit because the thing is- jason was dead. he crawled out of his grave for some reason and it was the pit that fixed up all the loose ends that gave him back his mind and i think it would make sense that the pits were powered by a supernatural quality.

maybe in repairing jason's mind the pit inserted some of itself into him and maybe the pit has incorporated parts of the other people who have used it over the centuries!!! and a lot of those people? not very nice, good people.

a lot of those people were violent, entitled, and selfish. like the prince who killed sora, ra's wife, after ra's healed him using the pit. the pit has too much muck and tar even good, honest people who are dipped can't reverse the effects and come out...worse.

the pit has been tainted for a long time. long before humans ever touched it, furiously hungry predators would chase terrified prey down into caves and they'd fall in, tainting the waters with the hunger to devour at any cost.

when jason sees tim he feels hatred and envy and anger. and if that had been all he'd felt that's all the pit would have acted on.

but...there was something else in jason's gut when he saw tim for the first time. an odd twinge and swirl in him, a feeling that was drowned out by everything else but was there nonethless. attraction. tim was an attractive person and jason's body had felt that and the pit that had made its home in the water of his brain picked up on it too and that hunger...that desire...came back.

jason does not know what happens. and his attraction never goes away. its only when that pulse of heat in him flares up that the pit seeks out tim and forces him to ease that desire.

jason never thinks to tell tim. to confess. because of the tower and because he knows tim would never reciprocate. but the attraction never dies down and every time the pit indulges it fans their flames.

and tim. never tells. he doesn't want the shame, the humiliation, does not want to be the reason why jason is ostracized because jason is rejoining the family. slowly. he and dick laugh together, he and bruce are on the mend.

tim does not want to be the reason that is disrupted he does not want to find out...if bruce and the family would choose him. if they would even entertain the possibility of their jason doing something...something like that.

so tim...keeps his mouth shut. and he tries hard to maintain his distance no matter the frowns or concerned furrowed looks shot his way. they will never tell him to forgive jason or try to get them to be anything but civil. but tim will see their judgement and disappointment either way.

tim does his best to find work outside gotham, he finds exuses to go to the titans. even though the tower has been, proven unsafe.

sometimes tim will spend nights in kon's room. kon is confused but accepting and holds tim so that tim can catch, at least, a few hours of sleep.

it helps.

sometimes. but kon can't always be there and tim gets tired of staying up an vigilant. he needs to sleep sometime. and jason...jason is always there waiting for him to.

[romancingdaffodils]

Love Kills.

part 1

bassist!rockstar!remus lupin x roadie!reader

In which one of your closest friends happens to be Sirius Black, who is also the drummer in the infamous punk band: The Marauders. You’ve met Remus Lupin twice before the tour begins and you found yourself quite enthralled with him. The more time you spend, the greater the need is.

warnings : mention of drinking, and that’s about it. gender neutral reader with a small understanding of drums and stuff :333

title stolen from Love Kills - Joe Strummer

hiii i know you missed me

i’d like to give a special thanks to @alegsy for all his help on this one. and if you like Alex turner go check out @joepublicspeakings :33. Seriously Al thank you much for helping me out with all the roadie tech stuff and ideas and punk music too it really means a lot and i love you sooooo much. thank u smsm

ps pls ignore that matt plays electric and not bass it’s not my fault i love him so much

Sirius Black was by far the most interesting man you've ever met. He was also the reason you were stood with your hands clasped tightly around the handles of two stuffed bags.

"C'mooon, you know me, it'll be fun! You like the music, know the tech, got the skills nailed. You're the perfect roadie, join us." Sirius begged, following you around the bar. You frowned at him. Unfortunately for the raven haired man, you liked your job, which meant it took a lot more convincing to get you onside.

"Sleeping in a glorified caravan for god knows how many days doesn't exactly seem like my idea of fun! Plus, Sirius, I only really know James. Met the other lanky one, what, twice? Don't know the last guys name! It's not fair." you argued, crossing your arms and glaring at him. You had included a small white lie in the fact Remus Lupin was not known as the lanky one in your mind - you were familiar with the version of him that haunted your daydreams. He pouted at you. Yes, the fully grown man pouted at you.

"It pays well-ish! It'll get you in with the industry and it's months with your favourite person, ever. Me! On top of that, it's not a glorified caravan, we invested this year so shut your trap." he whined, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

"Right, fine, maybe. I'll, consider it. And, never ever say 'shut your trap' again. You're a daft twat, you know that?" you caved. He grinned.

"So that's a yes! And I'll do you the favour of assuming you're just trying to keep me humble." he grinned once again. Mentally, you smashed your head through a glass pane. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Nice shirt.” a voice spoke from beside you, giving you a small smile. You smiled back. The lanky one - Remus Lupin, you reminded yourself. Not that you needed much reminding; the honey eyed man stuck firmly in your brain.

“Thanks, didn’t know you liked Bowie. Thought all the punk stuff would be more for you.” you joked, peering up at him. He scoffed, as though your statement was the most insane thing he’d heard.

“Can still like the ‘punk stuff’ and Bowie. Plus, he’s a genius. Done every style and more, like.” he replied, some sort of northern accent coming in thick and fast. He was different to Sirius in many ways and you took comfort in it. Even though, at times, Remus was a tad bit mean. But, not really to you. The three times (including now) you’d met him he’d been quite lovely. Sirius had chewed your ear off about that.

“It took me years to get a grin out of him! And you do it straight away? It’s so not fair!” he whined, leaning against the counter of the pub’s bar.

“You’ll recover, posho, promise.” you said, giggling to yourself at his heartbreak.

“Yeah, suppose you’re right. Nice to see you again, by the way. It’s been a while. ‘m excited for the tour and stuff.” you said, deciding that changing the subject might suit you better.

“Me too, can’t believe Sirius actually got you on as a roadie. Did he physically fight you for it? Last time we asked you were dead set against it.” he gestured for you to walk beside him as he spoke. He was holding his bags in one hand and his bass case in the other. He made short work of putting everything bar his bag of necessities into the storage bin. Then, quickly took your own off of you, shoving them into the storage of the bus. He didn’t seem to mind doing the heavy lifting for you.

“He harassed me, a lot. At work. A lot. It’s fine though, I think I’ll enjoy it if I’m honest. If all else fails at least I’ll get contacts and friends out of it, yeah?” Remus snickered. He smiled down at you as he closed up the storage compartment.

“I’ve been telling myself that for the past, what? Decade? Trust me, he entices you in, you’re trapped now. Failed plenty of times and don’t think I’ve gained much - apart from wanting to bash all three of their heads in. On multiple occasions.” you giggle; he smiles.

“Ah well, just promise me you won’t let me kill anyone then. I’ll do the same for you.” you said, holding out your pinky for him to close the promise. It was childlike and somewhat immature, sure, but it locked the deal closed. Wrapping his pinky around yours, Remus silently agreed to your proposition.

“It’s nice to meet you— Jesus Christ! You’re lanky. Sorry. That was mean. Remus, right?! I’m the one Sirius told you about.” you shouted over the blaring music. Submission by the Sex Pistols was causing the entire room to shake and was rocking you to your core.

“Yeah. I know you. Been trying to keep up with Pads, by chance?” Remus chuckled down at you, assuming you weren’t always this dishevelled.

“Always. Thought I could out drink him, you know, for a posh boy, the lad can drink.” he smiled.

“Perks of going to a boarding school. Mix with all sorts of people, it was good for him.” you smiled.

The night seemed to fly by and you couldn’t keep yourself away from Remus. Flocking to him like a moth to a flame, your cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. Thankfully, the incomprehensible amount of vodka you had consumed helped dull the pain.

“Can’t believe we haven’t met before.” you purred, peering up at him.

“Neither. Pads is cruel, keeps all his best friends to himself. Didn’t know there was anyone else on the planet who actively enjoyed The Clash and Dostoyevsky.” he responded, bringing a green tinted glass bottle to his lips.

“Let me try it.” you demanded, holding out your hand.

“You don’t like beer.” he said, giving you a small grin.

“Wanna try, it might be different.”

“Oh, yeah? All the beers you’ve had in your life and this one just might be different.” despite his teasing, he offered you the bottle. It did in fact not taste any different. It still tasted like piss.

“Nah, still rank.”

“Shame, that, really.”

You grinned. He smirked.

The tour bus was now filled. The four key members of the band: James, Sirius, Remus and Pete, who you’d finally remembered the name of and the rest of the members of your new team. Oh! And the support band, who you kept forgetting about, The Valkyries. Lovely girls, all of them. It tickled you somewhat that James and Lily were in rival bands. And, that some how they’d persuaded the rivals to support them. The roadies with you had mostly known the Marauders since school, which inevitably led to you feeling like an outcast. It really struck home as they were all discussing stories from their youth. The road was a relentless treadmill of travel and you were provided no solace. Until a small voice called your name.

“You busy?” Remus asked, poking his head into your bunk.

“Trying to be.” you joked, smiling over at him. He looked ridiculously oversized compared to the glorified caravan.

“Don’t think you aren’t welcome. They’re lovely. Sit up a bit, will you? My knees are killing I need to sit down.” you sat up, as he instructed. He sat on the bunk opposite yours, you faced him directly. It was a little scary- his ability to practically read your mind.

“I’m sure they are, just having second thoughts, as always. Dunno, you lot all went to school together. So, just a bit of an outcast, yanno?” you whispered, emphasising this was for Remus’s ears only. He nodded his head, and then began to shake it.

“Y’not an outcast. Promise. They’ll all love you once they get to know you. Like Pads does, poor fucker can’t leave you alone.” you laughed; he smiled. It wasn’t a sympathetic smile; it was genuine.

“I love Sirius too. Best friend you could ask for, really. It’s just such a shame he’s such a slag.” you joked. Remus laughed.

“Really is. How’ve you been since the incident?”

Remus’s hand was acting as a makeshift bobble as you threw up into the bar toilet. His other hand was rubbing small circles into your back.

“I hate him! I hate how much he can drink and- I hate this stupid bar.” you whined, in between sobs. Throwing up always made you cry.

“Shhh, yeah, I know. Come on, let it all out. Y’don’t need to cry, sweetheart, you’re fine. Just have to let it all out.” he cooed, still rubbing your back. God knows how you’d ended up exclusively talking to Remus the whole night and somehow still trying to out drink Sirius. You’d been fucked when the taller of the two showed up and now you were completely gone.

“This is so embarrassing. Sorry, I feel awful.” you threw up again after that.

“Got nothing to feel sorry about. Listen, been there done that with Sirius. Learnt my lesson the hard way too, plus I’m taller than you. Takes a lot more to get me drunk, yeah? He’s just insane. Don’t worry about it.” he comforted, not at all bothered by your sickness. Giving him a dopey smile, you were eternally grateful - even in your drunken state - that it was Remus you had befriended that night.

“Thank you, tell you what, I’ll do you a deal.” Remus nodded “Pinky promise if you ever get plastered I’ll do the same for you”. Holding out his pinky, Remus tilted his head at you. You locked pinkies with him for the first time (and most definitely not the last time).

“Good deal. Do you think we should get you home? Are you close? I’ll walk you if you are.” he offered, wrapping an arm around you to pull you up.

“Yeh, like ten minutes. Thank you, Remus, really. Bet you’re glad it’s me and not you, huh?” you joked, trying to add light to the situation. Leaning into him, you were relying solely on him to stay upright.

“Nah, know you’d do the same for me. Pinky promised it, didn’t you? And, it’s no problem. Think we’re going to be good friends.”

“Don’t bring that up around me. I’m still so embarrassed.” you complained, burying your head into your hands. Chuckling, Remus shook his head.

“Could’ve been worse, you could’ve declared your undying, unrelenting and pure love for Lily, whilst stood on top of the bar and using an empty vodka bottle as a microphone for the announcement. Poor Lils never recovered.” You lifted your head to give him the loudest laugh ever.

“They’re sooo cute. It’s upsetting.” you said, lying back down in your bunk. Remus watched your every move, subconsciously. “Oh, you said your knees were hurting. You get pains? Arthritis? My mum gets that in her knees, she just keeps moving, but I think it’s making it worse.” you rambled, turning your head to face him.

“Oh, yeah, just chronic pains, really. Just try and rest as often as possible.” he explained, stretching out his legs across the two bunks. His legs fell atop your own, now creating a bridge between the gap in the bunks. You smiled over at him.

“Must suck, huh? Well, let me know if I can help. Tour isn’t really resting.” you offered, giving him a big smile.

“Yeah, thank you, speaking of tour we aren’t far off Glasgow now.” he stated, peering out the window and then down at his watch.

“I’m ecstatic.” you stated sarcastically as your stomach twisted with nerves. Telling you not to worry, the sandy haired man gave you a smile that only made your stomach twist further.

The venue was a shit hole. A complete and utter shit hole. The ceiling had a badly patched up leak, which had almost destroyed Pete’s copy of the setlist. The reason Sirius had been so desperate to get you on his staff was because you specialised in drums - his instrument, of course. You’d managed to get everything set up relatively quickly. Carefully, you began to tighten the cymbals, listening for the correct pitch and length of the ring. Humming as you worked, you stopped every so often to admire the work of the rest of the team. Frank, who specialised in strings, was particularly impressive. He had finished up rather quickly and moved on to help his girlfriend, Alice, with getting everything ready for vocals. It seemed everyone here, but you had the perfect relationship. James and Lily were a lifetimes worth supply food for the green eyed monster. Frank and Alice were just as cute, but less well known as they weren’t in the limelight.

“All good?” he shouted over at you. You gave him a thumbs up and smiled over at Alice, who was fighting with some duct tape and a wire. Everything was all good for you, at the moment.

Finally, you finished up the final checks and placed a backup pair of sticks beside Sirius’s chair. It was then onto sound checks, all went well. You actually really quite liked the Marauders music. With inspiration from bands like The Clash and The Jam it’s hard to make a bad sound. He was weird in that he’d always carry around his sticks before the show, believing it would bring him good luck. In fact, in the first show you found out all the boys weird pre-show rituals. Pete laid down on the couch and threw chocolate raisins into his mouth. James clung onto Lily ever so slightly more than usual and insisted on drinking a shot of olive oil. As the lead singer he swore upon it for lubricating the vocal cords. You nearly gagged when you watched him do it. Whereas, Remus sat outside, cigarette in one hand and a cadburys chocolate bar in the other.

Trying to escape the rest of the boys, you ended up going outside and bumping into Remus during this. Quenching your thirst for normality, you couldn’t help your next actions. “Oh, sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” you stated, giving him a small smile as you gravitated towards him.

“Nah, take it you saw James’s shot?” he said, before taking a long drag from the cigarette. Wincing, you looked at him with pure disgust in your eyes. “No I get it, can’t be around him when he does it either. Makes my jitters worse.”

“Christ, you don’t look nervous at all. Good poker face. Your sound check was really incredible though. James performs like Joe Strummer, it’s funny. You’re good, really fit the part of Paul, huh?” there was an unspoken message behind fitting the part of Paul. The bassist of the Clash and the so called good looking one of the group (as stated by their drummer, Topper). You thought the same about Remus.

“You calling us Clash tributes? Also, he humps less than Joe.” You laughed. Full force laughter left your lungs as you keeled over in genuine disbelief. Snickering, Remus looked down at you, a little scared you’d collapse on the floor and knock yourself out. You went to speak, but the words were drowned out in laughter. “That tickled you, dinnit?” he mumbled, dropping his cigarette and crushing it below his foot. The shout of ‘Five minutes till you’re on!’ snapped you out of your laughter. Grinning up at Remus, you tilted your head.

“Break a leg!”

“It’s not the theatre.”

“Oh, good luck.”

“Thank you.” he replied, smirking down at you. He pushed the final piece of his chocolate bar into your hand before walking inside for the ‘team talk’. Time seemed to move at the speed of light whenever the lanky man was around. You found yourself completely lost in everything about him. Seriously, you couldn’t believe how long Sirius had deprived you of this perfect man.

Frank had told you whilst you were setting up that the band always had a talk before going on stage. The talk often consisted of: “James don’t cry and don’t fuck up” from Sirius and Remus; “Dodge bottles, whatever you do don’t get hit please you’ll look stupid.” as the general message to the whole band and “Jump around”, which was mostly directed to Peter and Remus. Frank had also warned you about the dangers that came from within the crowd. Police. Famously, punk music was viewed as being quite aggressive; it ended up being the roadies job to make sure fighting and dancing could be differentiated. Sirius hadn’t told you about that part whilst advertising the job. However, now wasn’t the time to take offence.

Erupting like a volcano, the crowd filled the rotting venue with noise. You watched the boys sprint on stage. All leather and tight fitting trousers.

James really did look like Joe Strummer when he performed and Remus was right about his comparison too. Sirius looked truly ecstatic whenever he performed and the energy brought about by the show pulled Peter from his shell. And Remus, oh, Remus. He was entirely perfect.

Catching yourself, you blinked and shook your head. You’d met this man three times, including the current interactions and here you were, fawning over him. Sure, it’d get you in a little bit of trouble, but what harm is a crush. Right? Not much harm compared to glass bottles and punk rockers. Oh, and a leak in the ceiling with wires messily taped to the floor.

Bang.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey! So I just read a Tumblr post about a costumer always going to this one coffee shop and asking for the most disgusting thing ever and NEVER drinking it (and one time they took a sip, they said yuck). And it got me thinking. Do you have any fics here about A or C doing something once as a joke or whatever and then it scaling and they can't back out now, but like, humorous? Could be this sort of setting, could be any other setting. The only tags I can come up with for similar things is the fake dating/married, but I'm pretty sure I've already read most of what's there and I want something different to that anyway. Hell, it doesn't even need to be A and/or Z who are stuck in that situation. I just really wanna read more stuff like this.

Hi! There isn't a specific tag for this kind of fic, really. But you might find similar fics to enjoy on our #misunderstandings tags. And here are some fics I think fit the idea you're describing...

Would you like to get a drink? by AppleSeeds (G)

Crowley has been drooling over the handsome checkout operator in his local supermarket for months and finally summons the courage to approach him. Unfortunately, it doesn't take long for Crowley's brain to shut down completely.

Calling All Catchers by Quefish (E)

Crowley is horny and puts out a personal ad, Aziraphale knocks on the door.

Ways to Make You Smile by WickedWriter (M)

Crowley has always been awkward around anyone who he develops feelings for. While Aziraphale is always nice to him, he can't help but screw things up when trying to flirt. But when he starts making latte art to impress his angel, it was only a matter of time before he found a way to cock things up again. Rated M for adult themed jokes and puns

Sansevieria by KissMyAsthma & leukozyna (M)

Crowley is on the prowl for a rare plant. Unwilling to pay such a high price, he takes a stroll to the plant shop to look for an alternative... then meeting a handsome stranger who happens to own the plant of his dreams. How far will Crowley go to seize a cutting of this botanical masterpiece? Or: when you want to get a cutting of a rare, expensive plant, what do you do? You slither your way into the pants of its owner (too bad if you fall in love on the way)

Thrown for a Loop by MickyRC (T)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a large amount of yarn will be assumed to be a knitter. It is a truth universally acknowledged among crocheters that this is annoying as hell. In his many years crocheting, Aziraphale has never been one to let that assumption stand. But faced with an opportunity to join a knitting group run by a very sweet new shop owner, he decides to play along. Even if it means he has to pretend he wants to learn how to knit. Even if it means he has to hide his skill with a crochet hook. It’ll be worth it to get to know Crowley better. Probably. Hopefully. (It will.)

Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth (E)

“Then you’ll just have to come back with me," Aziraphale said. “You what?” “You’ll have to come and isolate with me, at my cottage.” The thing about messing with people, Crowley thought, was that sometimes, they genuinely surprised you. After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.

- Mod D

[sednonamoris]

arsonist’s lullaby

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: With Sean dead and the Confederate gold nowhere to be found, the Braithwaites learn exactly why boys are off-limits.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/gore, canonical character death, arson/fiery deaths, angst, kidnapping, toxic loyaltyyyyy

Word count: 2,777

A/N: Emerging from my absence to post this chapter and fade back into the ether ✌️

Series masterlist • AO3

—

In the end, it’s a perfectly ordinary day when things come to a head.

Midsummer sun has beat down all day, only just now mellowing to a deep orange, early evening glow. Standing halfway up the path to camp on guard duty, nothing remarkable has happened at all, except maybe the number of deerflies you’ve had to fend off. Like the heat alone isn’t enough.

Micah and Sean and Bill rode into town on business earlier. Sean jabbered something about meeting up with Arthur and that Gray sheriff, but he was insistent on keeping the rest a mystery. High profile stuff, you know. Not for old-timers like you to worry about. You just rolled your eyes and sent him on his way.

Other than that, it’s been awfully quiet— Even after Karen and Bill and Lenny and Arthur hit Valentine’s bank the other week. If you were a more suspicious person you might call it too quiet, but it’s been nice to have a bit of a break. You and John have hardly spent a moment apart. Camp chores go quicker together, you tell everyone, but it hardly takes a genius to see you’re more attached at the hip than ever. Moving sacks of cornmeal and haying horses and chopping wood doesn’t usually result in the lovestruck looks stuck on your faces, after all.

Arthur, too, has enjoyed the down time. If he isn’t sharing a cup of morning coffee with his wife then he’s reading storybooks to his surrogate son, complete with ridiculous voices. He puts on a deep, gruff baritone for the bad guys, then pitches higher for a hero that sounds suspiciously like Jack. It’s sweet. The mantle of secondhand fatherhood fits snugly across his broad shoulders, and you can’t help but feel that if anyone ever deserved a second chance at all this, it’s him.

John’s been watching them with the strangest mix of joy and wistfulness and regret and shame. It’s always gone in a blink. You never quite know what to say.

But there’s no time to ruminate further when a slow, steady, thumping lope comes within earshot. You almost miss it, lost in thought.

“Who goes there?”

You’re not sure why you bother asking; the footfalls are too heavy to be anyone but Bill on Brown Jack. When they come into view there’s a tense set to Bill’s shoulders and unease in the whites of Brown Jack’s eyes. You see something slung behind the saddle, unmoving.

A body.

You only register it as Sean when he slows to a stop beside you.

It’s jarring to see the lively young Irishman so horribly, deathly still. His clothes are stained with blood and singed from bullets, but the gaping hole in his head is what turns your stomach and raises your hackles as well as the hairs on the back of your neck. Pulpy brains. Shards of skull. A once-bright eye bulged, crooked and unseeing. A damn good headshot.

Who would be gunning for him? you think. But really, after all the trouble you’ve been stirring down here, who wouldn’t? It’s only been a matter of weeks since you and the boys stole those horses. Less since he and Arthur burned the tobacco fields.

You look up at Bill after a long moment.

“Wanna tell me how the fuck you got the kid killed?” you say, voice low. Simmering. Seething in the summer heat.

Bill’s expression is caught between guilt and resentment. “It was them Gray boys.”

“Them Gray boys?”

“They were waitin’ for us! Arthur… well, he reckons they figured us out. Talked to that Braithwaite woman, I mean.”

“Where is he? Alive?”

“He and Micah ain’t far behind. Don’t expect they’ll be comin’ together.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just shake your head and try to think past the blood pounding through your eardrums. Ringing in your skull. “We gotta bury him.”

“I know,” he snaps.

Where would Sean want to be buried? With a view of the water? In the shade of the trees? Certainly not alone, but there’s little choice there. “We gotta— He deserves someplace decent.”

“I know.” Softer, this time. “...There’s a quiet spot up the other side of the path.”

You nod. “Don’t let the girls see.”

—

The air is thick and stagnant even as the afternoon fades into evening. You’ve always hated digging graves, and this heat only makes it worse. Cicadas hum. Flies buzz. Bill picked a good spot out of the dying sun, but sweat still pours down both of your faces and necks, soaking through your shirts. Salt stings your eyes and the tip of your tongue.

Once the hole is deep enough, Bill does his best to arrange whatever’s left of Sean with some dignity; arms crossed, a coin over his intact eye. It’s still a sorry sight. You take the pistol from his holster to give to Karen and let its dead weight rest in your belt while you and Bill get to burying. When the work is done, he stutters a few insufficient words over a yet-unmarked grave. He looks to you, then, and you fish your flask off your belt and take a strong swig before pouring a generous amount over the freshly turned earth.

“Cheers, brother,” says a hollow voice that sounds like yours. “Save us a seat.”

You don’t bother saying where.

—

Karen hits you when you tell her. A full arm swing. Open-palmed. Then again when you hand her the pistol.

You let her.

Feels like the least you can do.

—

The evening passes in a haze of numb grief. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you hide, only emerging from your tent when you hear raised voices outside Dutch’s.

“Where’s my goddamn son?” Abigail demands. “They took him, didn’t they? They took my son!”

And Jesus if this day couldn’t get worse. Your eyes scan the camp, like you’d be able to spot little Jack where his mother couldn’t. The sick feeling that’s been festering in your stomach since Sean’s burial twists and writhes and weighs you down like lead. Everyone knows missing is about as good as dead these days, but you don’t dare say that to Abigail.

“Where is my son, Dutch Van der Linde?!”

More and more begin to crowd around the commotion. The girls lay consoling hands on Abigail’s shoulders that quake with anger and fear. Arthur’s face is grim and drawn beside her. John’s is shadowed behind them, torn between guilt and anger. Hosea pushes past the throng to lay blame on the Braithwaites— at least, he says Kieran saw some boys what looked like Braithwaites not far from camp earlier. After what happened in town today, you have to admit it makes sense. Both families have you figured out, and they’re out for their pound of flesh.

As if Sean wasn’t enough already.

“We will find Jack, we will bring him back to you, and we will kill any fool that had the temerity to touch one hair on that boy’s head,” Dutch vows in answer to Abigail’s frantic questioning. “Right now.”

And he turns on his heel and makes toward The Count to do just that. Everyone follows. Bill calls out asking about extra guns that are accepted readily. Micah and Kieran are ordered to protect the camp while you’re all away. Weapons drawn, eyes blazing, you mount your horses and make off into the night.

This is the warpath. The beating hooves and rushing blood. Moonshine canters steadily beneath you, keeping stride with Old Boy and Arthur’s mount on either side. It’s been a long time since the whole gang has ridden out like this, chomping at the bit for a bloodletting.

“I swear, I’ll kill everyone there!” John snarls. He’s settled into his anger now, quicker on its draw than his pistol.

“Easy, Marston,” Arthur says. His voice is low and dangerous like how he warns off strangers. Not family. Not John. “You don’t check your shots, Jack’ll end up dead too.”

“Don’t tell me to take it easy! That’s my—” but John chokes on the word before he can get it out.

Son, he was going to say. That’s his son.

But Jack is as much Arthur’s as he is John’s anymore, and right now neither one can stand it. You can’t bear to look at the fear nor the anger nor the burning blame in either of their eyes.

—

The oaks that line the path to Braithwaite Manor are always imposing, but here in the dusky nighttime you swear you can feel their ancient eyes watching. Bloody roots gorged on bloodstained grounds; twisted, gnarled branches grasping for a Heaven they’ll never reach. There are few stars that shine through the scattered clouds in the early night sky, but you wish upon every one that Jack is safe, and you vow that no one will make it out of here alive if he isn’t.

Everyone dismounts at the gate. Beside you John and Arthur are tense. Mouths set, trigger fingers twitching, eyes aflame with a primal sort of anger and fear that can only come from losing a child. Dutch, too, is furious. The fact that anyone would touch one of his own is normally enough to have him ranting, almost frothing at the mouth, but he must sense that Arthur and John need him calm.

Calmer than them, anyhow.

Ahead, the manor house is lit with a warm orange glow from its pillared porch. The moon casts strange light across the shadowy night, flickering in and out of cloud cover. There is only the sound of gravel beneath your boots and anticipation.

“Get down here now, you inbred trash!” Dutch bellows at the first sight of the Braithwaite boys.

“What the hell do you want?” they call back, like they don’t know.

John makes to aim his gun and you brush against his shoulder as a comfort and a warning. He snarls but doesn’t shoot. Not yet.

Dutch continues, “We’ve come for the boy. You must’ve known we would.”

Arthur is little better off, glaring holes in the heads of every Braithwaite son and cousin and uncle and friend that emerges from the looming house. There’s more of them by the minute. You feel everyone tense around you. Their guns aren’t lifted - not yet - but all it will take is a sign from Dutch.

Not yet.

“That is a young boy. That is not the way you do things. Hand him over.”

“Get the hell off our land!”

Not yet.

Dutch’s eyes darken in challenge. He doesn’t so much as turn his head toward any of you, but the shift in energy is electric. The whole world holds its breath.

“If you ain’t gonna be civilized about this…”

Now.

All at once everyone opens fire. It’s a symphony of gunfire, bullets screaming by from every direction. You pull John behind a crate just as one grazes his ear. He snarls out a curse while you kill the man on the balcony who shot at him. The body tumbles over the railing and stains the steps red with blood and brains.

Dutch calls out marching orders, but through the din he’s nearly impossible to hear. John heads inside. You follow suit. The manor doors swing wide open like the unhinged jaw of a snake, welcoming you into the belly of the beast.

“Jack!”

“Where are you, kid?”

“Jack!”

His name echoes off expensive oak floors and through lofted ceilings. You tear through the lower floor like someone possessed, ripping open mahogany chests and finely stained china cabinets and the couch cushions of richly-rugged sitting rooms. Anywhere a little boy might fit. Then plenty of places he wouldn’t just for good measure.

Somewhere in the rush you lose John. Over the gurgling rasp of a Braithwaite son’s last breath you hear him shout something from upstairs. You make to run up the winding staircase but stop dead in your tracks when you see Catherine Braithwaite being kicked down them.

Dutch sneers, his lip curled with generational distaste for a man who preaches against revenge. She’s sobbing, spewing vitriol with every shaky breath. All her sons are dead now. You can see it in the gape of her burnt ash mouth. In the flames that lick the polished wood floors from their dropped torches. In the fire reflected back in Dutch’s eyes.

—

Jack isn’t there. Catherine Braithwaite uses her last breaths to gloat that he’s been sold to a man in the city.

Sold.

You watch Dutch let her go, then watch still as she runs screaming into the flames. The house collapses over a shrieking phantom of the Deep South with a groan and a sigh. By the color of the flames it’ll burn for hours yet.

The trees stare as you leave, gorged on blood and ash.

—

Dawn comes blood red and brutal, streaking through the sky with its first light warning. Dutch, John, Hosea, and Arthur are all gathered around the camp table to discuss your next moves. Whatever those are, though, you can’t imagine. John didn’t sleep a wink last night, just staring at tent canvas and stewing in blame. He looks awful. Everyone does.

You’re sat next to Abigail by the campfire. She says nothing, but the hunch of her shoulders and the blue-hot flame of her eyes tells you there’s nothing to be said. Her boy is gone. Missing.

You brought her a bowl of porridge for breakfast, but neither of you is up for eating much. She stares into the fire while it sits untouched in her lap. You push your oats around with the spoon and pretend not to eavesdrop.

Of course Marston’s scared rotten, Arthur says in hushed tones. I am too. We killed all them people— for what? For nothin’. There ain’t no gold here.

For living, Dutch corrects him, and you can’t help but think it’s a shame that not all of you got to that part. The living. Sean is dead and gone forever. For all you know, Jack might be too.

But all of that is put immediately to rest when Lenny walks into camp with two Pinkerton agents at gunpoint.

Milton and Ross, they call themselves, swaggering through the whole of camp like you’re not all outlaws and thieves. Killers. Everyone stands as they pass, slowly circling in like vultures to the promise of violence.

The matching felt bowler hats on their heads can’t hide the pockmarks on Milton’s face nor the smug, bristling mustache on Ross’. The government is surely paying a pretty penny for your capture if the fineness of their clothes is anything to go by. Their shoes are shined and polished. You can’t help but notice the way the red Rhodes clay oozes up beneath the soles and paints them muddy.

“This thing? It’s done,” Milton announces when he makes his way to Dutch.

Dutch barely bothers to turn and face him. He doesn’t stand. Everyone else slowly, slowly creeps closer. One step at a time. All coming together. Vultures. Violence.

Things like this are never just done.

Never.

Milton calls Dutch a lot of things. A shepherd of lost souls. A messiah. Sarcasm drips from the syllables, and you wonder how he might react if you told him Dutch was the only god to answer a single one of your prayers. Even Swanson lost touch with Christ long ago. Now when he falters he begs Dutch Van der Linde for forgiveness. All of you do.

“I’m nothing but a seeker, Mr. Milton,” Dutch finally says.

Milton’s eyes narrow. There's a faint expression you can’t quite place on his face when he replies, “You ain’t much of anything more than a killer, Mr. Van der Linde.”

He offers freedom, then. Three days to run and hide and live like civilized human beings in exchange for Dutch. It’s almost laughable.

Dutch steps forward and every gun in camp cocks. Agent Milton seems suddenly to remember how very much outnumbered and outgunned he is.

“I think your new friend should leave, Dutch,” Ms. Grimshaw says.

Milton calls it a mistake, calls you all fools, but the only foolish mistake you can see is letting them live.

—

John and Arthur leave together after all that. They make for a place called Shady Belle and promise Abigail it’s close to the city where her son is being held. A good spot to camp while everyone does what they can to bring that little boy home.

Looking at Karen, miserable and bleary-eyed drunk, you can’t help but think it’s awfully far from Sean’s grave.

[andkisses]

prompt: “I’m a jeweler and you always come in to buy stuff so I assume you have you have a significant other and don’t hit on you, but it turns out you’re just really nice to your mom” au

taehyun x gn!reader | wc. 570

genres/tropes: fluff, college!au but also not really, only if you squint

mentions of/warnings: none

“Act fast—it’s your favorite customer.”

The lilt on your friend's voice tells you who it is before the door swings open and the bells over send a gentle chime throughout the store.  Working in a jewelry shop during the semester to earn a little extra cash initially felt too boring.  Selling jewelry all day to stuck up rich people? Bleh.

But on your first day, just before you got off your shift, you saw him.  Taehyun.  Tall, handsome like a prince, it was as if one of your childhood fairytales had come to life and manifested itself into the history TA in front of you.

“Hey, [Y/N]!” Taehyun calls over the simple music playing throughout the store.  Outside, the mall is buzzing with students from the local university.

The first week, you’d developed a crush on Taehyun—who wouldn’t?  Day one of your second week, however, you found out Taehyun was always coming in to buy something for a “special lady” in his life.  Even though you barely knew him at this point, what could you do about it?  All the good ones were taken, anyway, so why was this shocking?

A month has passed since then, and Taehyun comes in almost weekly to buy a small necklace or bracelet charm.  He always makes conversation with you, having found out you attend the same university, but since you’re different grades and majors, you haven’t seen each other.  One day, he told you he worked at a cafe near campus and that you should stop by one time so he could return the favor—you helped him find the perfect jewelry, so he’ll help you find the perfect coffee or tea.

At first, helping him hurt.  Why couldn’t he be buying the jewelry for you?  But over time, you realized you just enjoyed Taehyun’s company more than anything.

“Hi, Taehyun!” you call back, offering a gentle wave.  You hear your coworker scoff, and watch as her form disappears into the stock room, leaving you and Taehyun alone.  “What are you looking for today?”

“Something different,” Taehyun sighs.  “It’s for someone different this time, but I don’t know much about their tastes.”

“Someone different?  Did something happen?”  The words fall from your lips before you can even think about them, let alone process the consequences of actually saying them.

Instead of being shocked at your nosiness, Taehyun simply laughs.  “No, it’s nothing,” he assures.  “My mom’s doing fine, but she wants me to branch out in who I give gifts to.  And since there’s someone I like...”

Wait.

“Your… mom?”  You grip onto the edge of the counter, leaning forward to prevent from swaying and hitting the ground all together.  “You mean, all the things you’ve bought, they’ve been—”

“For my mom!”  The smile on Taehyun’s face is brilliant, warmer and more charming than the sun itself.  Inside, your brain is scrambling to process what he’s told you.  His mom, not some young person he was dating, but his own mother, getting all those cute little gifts as opposed to a d—

Wait.

Did he say—

“Someone you like?”

Taehyun laughs again.  “Yes!  I know, it feels weird even for me to say, and I’m the one with the crush.”  Now, he’s standing in front of you, mirroring your stance on the counter, leaning in closer.  “I think you might know them, so would you like to help me choose something for them?”

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Not sure what to name that sub au, but some silly stuff some friends and i came up with while talking on discord instead of sleeping:

it would be nice if in this scenario the dca got glimpses of all the other times they've meet the immortal since they are less stuck to organic limitations of brain now in the body of a robot

These two souls have been countless things through the years. So may I humbly offer you the image of a bird Sun taking a nap on Perkeo's hair while under the light of the actual sun

Imagine your best friends repeatedly self sacrificing for you even though you could withstand anything over the span of eons. Now imagine them doing that knowing you could withstand it because would've done the same for them before

Sun and Moon actually know about the reincarnation thing. Or at least their souls do. Maybe they view themselves as protectors of the Immortal in a way, standing by their side through lifetimes and keeping them safe. Maybe they are not born knowing but it just clicks the second they lay their eyes on them, like an innate need to protect or just be by their side

Sun and Moon just casually found the perfect vessel this time, in form of an animatronic but y'know, can't be picky, so they decide to share it anyway. They must be soooooo proud of themselves for being smart boys and finding such a good body that will last long (bonus points I think it would be hilarious if they first meet because of the Immortal and they both agreed afterwards like "yep. That's what we doing now")

Imagine like the daycare attendants looking down at them with a lovesick expression (at least internally since yk, metal faceplate)/pla. Perkeo laughs as they look up to them, asking if there's something in their face.

The attendant just chuckles and tells them they got such a pretty smile. In their shared mind, they get to glance to a million other times they saw that same smile, that laugh

They adore it, and the fact this time they can last with you means the world to them. They don't need to leave you again.

Is Perkeo able to realize it's the same two souls? Maybe. They probably joke about it because it's happened too much to be just coincidence, but they have no proof until the dca, so we relying on vibes here

None of my aus are romantic. Not the Immortal, and not this version. However the unspoken loyalty and bond to eachother without labeling it gets to me everytime

How sad it would when soul mix with code if things follow the normal route of events, if they still get to get the virus. They've sworn to protect yet they are the reason they hurt. For centuries neither of them has ever made them bleed by their own hands yet the very same vessel that gives them longevity it's the curse that leaves them to watch without control as they do the opposite of the very thing they live for

Also. Nicknames changing between aus: name and sky related nicknames for the Immortal au, because of the whole celestial theme going on, they are the Sun the Moon and the Stars and yada yada

While on this variant au it would be nicknames picked from little habits of centuries, like Birdie because they liked to sing with the birds or would be the one singing early in the morning, or Little Owl because of that nasty little habit of staying up late doing stuff

Also "Mo(u)rning dove" as a nickname. They sing quite beautifully, the spelling is a play on words (both day themed, and dark). They actually represent peace, love, devotion, death and rebirth across many different cultures

Also Sun and Moon being an actual nickname given to the two centuries ago because of the cheerful/calm behavior, as well as how as sure as the Sun and the Moon will rise in the sky, the two of them will also be there with them eventually again. I think that's still applicable even if the immortal doesn't know it's them because the vibes are enough

Big shout to something Su said, "A fate designed by them" (@them not being soulmates but making eachothers soulmate by choosing to stick together anyway). Been thinking abt it nonstop

[theshadowrealmitself]

About my last ask

Got two lads I want to know about

"who hasn’t realized yet that their Vulcan coworker is an alien, and keeps summing up their behavior as them being autistic like the oc or it being a religious thing as their coworker is clearly religious (they assume the Teachings of Surak is a religion) "

Because honestly this is my favourite thing ever. Also my brain is so stuck on *oh yeah, vulcans do just look like goth humans don't they?*

And also "Mostly just because I want Vulcans to come into contact with a knitted Sehlat and stop functioning for a second, I don’t want to look at everyone through a human lens but I still think coming across a small plushie that resembles your pet growing up is a universal want "

Because mmm funky ass interactions of "I made this for you?" "What? H o w???"

Idk if I'm explaining my thoughts correctly but my autism has latched onto your ocs

(Real quick, none of my oc’s are named because I’m terrible at naming 😭)

Unfortunately I don’t have too much for the first one, the main thing was just misunderstandings of them like, offering chocolate to their coworker and when they reject it, they assume it’s either a religious thing or they’re allergic to chocolate, so they take great care to not offer it again to not make them uncomfortable (especially if they want chocolate but aren’t allowed to, wouldn’t be nice of them to dangle a treat like that in front of them knowing they can’t accept it)

Their Vulcan coworker just thinks they’re the most accepting Human they’ve ever worked with:

very courteous of their personal space and eating requirements, tries to communicate with them on the same level (mirroring them), i.e., trying to avoid words that imply emotions, they don’t ever make them feel unwanted or like an outsider, but they also don’t ignore that they’re a Vulcan, they’re always inquiring about Surak and acknowledging the differences in how they view things since they’re from a different species (their coworker is actually just acknowledging how coming from different time periods and religions causes them to view things differently)

I got stuck on what would happen after awhile, I was thinking that maybe their other coworkers figure out what’s happening first based on how the Human coworker has phrased some stuff about their Vulcan coworker or Vulcans in general, but I couldn’t think of how I’d want the reveal to go down (other than the Human bouncing back immediately because I can’t stand the thought of the Vulcan coworker having to deal with the fact that the Human actually is freaked out by them being different species or anything like that) so this little au/story/thing is on the back burner for now

And for the second one, oh my god I haven’t thought about those ocs in awhile, they’re connected to a type of ocs I was making for awhile that included “Humans making videos that Vulcans watch for entertainment”:

So the premise was that this Human wakes up in the future (I forget the buildup, really need to write stuff down more often), and they’re trying to adjust to the fact that since the world is post-scarcity they can actually follow their interests, but also since the world has changed so much, they don’t even know how to enter their world of interests anymore (if that makes sense?)

While trying to acclimate to everything, they look into their hobbies to see how much has changed, and find out that knitting (both fortunately and unfortunately) hasn’t changed that much, like there’s way more patterns for Human stuff, i.e., more realistic patterns for earth animals, but patterns for non-Terran stuff? Nonexistent.

The Human starts filling this niche, coming up with patterns for them, and then making long “how to” videos with no cuts (they have no idea how to edit videos, so all their videos are real time how they made the item), and then they post it where it doesn’t really get a lot of Human views, but it starts gathering the attention of other species’ who all start to really enjoy learning this Human hobby

Because the videos are so long, the audio is the Human talking about customs and stuff surrounding knitting (like baby blankets for baby showers, making scarves for crushes in media, the “boyfriend curse”, etc), which leads to other Human customs, and gives everyone who watches it a new view of Humans, while the Human gets an appreciation for these other species that other Humans don’t normally get, as their first introduction to these species is searching up customs and stuff that other Humans don’t even think about as they try to see if there’s anything similar to Human knitting customs

(Like do other species ever gift handmade blankets to each other? if they did what’s everything surrounding them? like do different patterns and different colors have different meanings? can any of these blankets be recreated with knitting? etc)

I’m so upset that I forgot what the setup was with the Vulcan in this scenario, the main things I remember was them seeing the stuffed sehlat for the first time and just freezing, and the other thing was them knowing the Human before ever knowing that they knit and getting a crush on them through the videos after seeing how focused and competent they were while knitting

(I love Vulcans falling for wacky or whatever types of Humans, but I also like them first logically getting a crush on Humans after seeing them serious or competent in a way they never really thought of Humans being like, and then the crush getting worse after seeing them be silly and they don’t understand it)

Edit: I have another oc set that’s similar to this (like I said I have a lot of Human ocs that follow this outline) except: they specifically make miniature realistic figurines, they’re academic rivals with the Vulcan (huge misunderstanding, neutralness sometimes sounds like being an asshole especially when the other person has been having a terrible day and doesn’t know anything about Vulcans and them being neutral, but the misunderstanding eventually led to both of them considering the other one a rival)

And one of their rivalries is over getting this specific study room, the Vulcan thinks it’s the most logical place to study, and the Human uses the room to make their figurine videos and hates the idea of switching to a different room when they’ve become accustomed to this one, so the two keep trying to arrive earlier and earlier than the other one to claim it, even going to the lengths of underhanded methods (the Vulcan swears they didn’t mess with the coding on the door to not let the Human in when they got the key first that one time, but they totally did)

Eventually a professor steps in and forces them to share the study room, which leads to the Vulcan’s new fascination with these tiny figurines and then a fascination with the one who makes them (although tbh that fascination was already building while they were fighting over who gets the room first, the Vulcan just doesn’t want to admit to ever having a crush on such a hot headed Human)

[harmonictechnicality]

Memory Log Easter Eggs and Brain Worms

There’s quite a few of these, so I’m gonna do my best to scavenge for all of them. I’m going to start with the most important one:

Waking up Max: there were 3 key elements that were vital in waking up Max. 

Max’s birthday - I purposefully picked November 6th as Max’s birthday because it is the day that Will went missing in 1983. I think there is something so significant about the Upside Down being frozen in time on that specific day. That day must hold some sort of power and therefore, I needed Max to be tethered to that day somehow. Hence the November 6th birthday.

The happiest memory item/song - Max has been through a lot, especially as a kid. It is common for people (younger people especially) to repress their trauma in order to function day to day. However, a lot of good memories often times get repressed with the bad memories. The brain is just trying to stuff it all away and that can happen. So it made sense to me that Max couldn’t find her happiest memory because she repressed it, and needed to hear the song from the bear to pull the memory out of storage.

The witching hour - the time of day when supernatural entities are said to reach maximum power. Therefore, if Max’s consciousness is stuck in a supernatural realm, she would need as much power as possible to escape. This time of day gave her and Eddie the best chances of surviving.

(All three of these things needed to happen in order to set them free. The perfect storm.)

Going off of this, there is distinct significance in Max waking up on Day 77. Seven is commonly used as a number of extreme luck. So I used this day to represent that not only did they need those three conditions, but they also needed tons and tons of luck on their side.

And if you’re into math (I’m not, but I kinda had to for this fic), you’ll notice that Steve and Eddie kiss on Day 71. And if Max’s birthday is on Day 77, that would mean that their first kiss is on Halloween. Something, I doubt Steve cares about - but if Eddie’s memory had been better, I’m sure he would’ve be fucking STOKED.

The book behavior choices! Taming of the Shrew is such a nod to this fandom. I’ve seen a lot of people in the steddie nation that love 10 Things I Hate About You. And like, same. But 10 Things I Hate About You is a modern adaptation of Taming of the Shrew, by William Shakespeare. So, I threw this in there as a little nod to this community and their shared love of that tale :)

Jekyll and Hyde… this one is pretty obvious. One is nice and the other is a monster (via potion). I’m assuming that Eddie is on a lot of medicines, some probably affect his moods, so that’s why I chose this one.

Beowulf - okay, so I’ve read articles on how Tolkien LOVES Beowulf, and therefore, I think Eddie would also love Beowulf. It totally checks out with his love of fantasy worlds.

There’s a moment in chapter 3 where Steve calls Eddie “hero” and I think this is less of a term of endearment, and more his way of showing Eddie that he did indeed read Beowulf for him (even though he did not read it lol). It’s also a nod to s4 when Eddie says they are ‘no heroes.’ Even though Eddie doesn’t have memory of this moment, Steve calls back to it so that Eddie feels like a hero (just like Beowulf) for surviving the Bad Days.

The heart monitor - this became a huge symbol for Steve in determining Eddie’s feelings. Whether he was feeling sick or flustered or sleepy, all of those beeps sounded different. But then, Steve ALSO uses it to determine that Max is waking up. I think it is fun to play off of this thing that he saw as a reminder of mortality, and ends up using it to know that his friend is being revived.

I picked the Corduroy bear because the story reflects Eddie in a lot of ways. In the Children’s book, the bear is searching for his missing button. In this fic, Eddie is searching for his missing memories. I just liked the idea of connecting him and Max in yet another way.

The heart sticker being underneath the bear’s overalls is another callback to s4 - the Russian Doll with the note inside. It’s not entirely the same, but it’s a tiny detail I threw in there to pay homage to that scene (and it ultimately led to breaking someone - Hopper - free). Just like Max and Eddie were set free.

In the final chapter Eddie says this about the bear: ‘Looks like she sewed it back together with yellow threads?’ The color yellow is used to represent Steve throughout this fic (and the whole damn fandom). So I liked having it symbolize the thread holding this bear together, like Steve is the person that has brought them all together on this quest to wake up Max.

The Firestarter reference - I used this particular movie/novel for a few different reasons. The first is that it’s by Stephen King, and the show (in canon) makes TONS of Stephen King references. At the end of s4, we see Lucas reading The Talisman to Max, so we get the sense that she’s a fan of his books. I also chose it because Max’s hair is red, so I thought Eddie would immediately associate her with fire :)

The Nightmare on Elm Street reference - again, a lot of s4 paid respect to this movie, along with lots of other Teen Horror Slasher films. But since this fic is dealing with lucid dreaming, I felt it had to be mentioned at least once.

I based the original character of Sam off of the Nurse from Romeo and Juliet. Lets be honest: Romeo and Juliet are shitty people. But the Friar and the Nurse are literally carrying the whole damn play on their overworked backs (so is Mercutio until he bites the bullet). The Nurse helps Romeo and Juliet meet in secrecy and protects their relationship. So having an actual nurse do the same thing for Steve and Eddie seemed like a no-brainer in my Shakespeare-obsessed brain.

In the epilogue, Eddie tells Steve “Would be a complete idiot not to fall in love with you, Steve Harrington.” I used this to negate Nancy Wheeler saying “you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington” all throughout s1. While she probably means this in an endearing way, I can’t help but wonder how this affects Steve. Especially after seeing her response to his essay in the next season. Yes, it might be playful, but it becomes a very real opinion of hers a year into their relationship. So I thought it was important to have Eddie twist that phrase and tell Steve that someone would be an idiot not to fall in love with him. That seemed healing and important to me.

The final line. This is in reference to them holding hands in chapters 4 and 5. Each time they do so, it means something different. At first, it is a sign of “helpless support.” Steve cannot fix Eddie’s medical problems, but he can literally offer his hand to show that he’s physically there for him. Once they kiss in Chapter 5, Steve says “it means everything,” in determination to get Eddie’s memories back once and for all. And finally, he repeats this because the gesture now represents their togetherness. Their bond. When they hold hands at the end, it means everything they’ve experienced as a pair.

I hope this was interesting and not too boring. Sorry if it was! I cannot thank you all enough for the love and support on this fic. It was a joy to share with this community.

[theambitiouswoman]

hey there. i'm just 19 years old and been trying to find my way around things. i've been feeling really terrible lately. my situation's a bit messy.

i have a habit of comparing myself to my peers a lot. not to mention i have some addictions i must get rid of, like spending my time daydreaming a lot, which really affects my schedule. my mother would compare me to my peers when i was really little, and i think it grew on me, and now i'm starting to realize it as i grow up that it's stuck to me.

i couldn't do well with the university exam, so i'm taking a gap year to retake it next year. i feel like a failure sometimes. there were so many things i could have done as a high-schooler, but i just wasted my time. i succeeded in some stuff, yes, but i don't feel like i'm ready to be an adult yet. i feel like i should be knowledgable more, i feel like i know less than i should, and it's killing me inside.

i'm sorry if it's just ranting, but that's about my situation. your account is full of useful information and encouragement, do you have any previous posts/suggestions that you could give me? thank you in advance. i hope you have a nice day.

Hi angel,

At 19, it's normal to feel uncertain and overwhelmed. Remember, you're still figuring things out, and it's okay to take your time. 19 was one of my favorite ages, for no particular reason other than it was fun and I felt like an adult. I certainly had nothing together. My parents would have loved a lot of things for me at that age. Married to the boyfriend I had at the time because it was a huge sin to them based on their religious views, which in retrospect would have been a huge mistake.

Comparing yourself to others is common, but try to focus on your own journey. We normally compare ourselves because we don't have a set plan for our lives with clear goals and intentions. I am sure your mom means well, and its normal for parents to have the same expectations for all of their kids, even though they are literally different people. But everyone has their own path, and what matters most is your progress, not how you measure up to others. You cant let yourself feel bad for meeting anyone else's expectations.

I always tell people to not compare someone else's highlights to your life because life has its ups and downs, and you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. We all have different lives, different qualities. Maybe what took someone else x amount of time and effort to accomplish, is something that is a strength to you and you can accomplish it in half the time, when you are ready.

All you can do for yourself is really focus on you, learn, prepare. Train your brain into processing things faster so you can evolve faster as a person in your brain.

If you know you have some negative habits you want to work on, like daydreaming, you can start taking action and maybe setting small goals to manage your time better. Focus on the things you want to improve about yourself instead of feeling bad about yourself for it. You already know the problem. Maybe working on these issues opens your mind and your live to different opportunities. We have to learn to overcome obstacles, not just physical but mental. This creates a ripple effect not only with our thought process, but our physical actions and in turn attract different realities and opportunities.

You are an individual. You are unique and special. Comparing yourself or living up to someone else's standards for YOUR LIFE when they don't have your strengths or brain, or potential is doing a huge disservice to you. We cant abandon our strengths, we need to discover them. When we abandon them, we are basically abandoning ourself and who we could be for the sake of someone else.

Taking a gap year to retake the university exam is a smart choice. It doesn't mean you're a failure; it's a chance to improve. It is actually great that you recognize that you want to be better. Most people take a gap year anyway. Who says you can't? Why would it make a negative impact on your future? That is simply NOT TRUE <3

[riddlerscumshot]

Happy to Help pt. 1

NSFW!

words: 2,774

contains: incel edward, mastubation, description of unprotected sex

pairing: Edward Nashton x reader (i tried to keep things gender neutral, but afab genitalia is described)

It took you two days to move into your new apartment. You would probably still be stuck two towns over if you hadn't hired movers to get your bed, dresser, and couch. The move to Gotham had been a scary one, but the rent was cheap, especially on the bad side of town. You tried not to think about it, the danger. You were just happy to be fully moved in to your new home four stories up. Your apartment was close to the elevator, which for some reason made you feel safer. Something about not having to walk down a long hallway made things better.

After you had everything settled into its rightful place, you decided it was time to introduce yourself to your new neighbors. You stepped out of your apartment and your eyes landed on the door across the hall. You made your way over to it and began knocking. After a waiting for a moment, you got no response, so you tried knocking again.

"No one lives there," the voice behind you made you jump. It wasn't inherently scary, but you hadn't expected it. You turned around to see where it came from and you were greeted a tall man stating in the open doorway of the apartment next door to yours. He had a round face and clear glasses that almost covered his upturned eyebrows. Oh, he's waiting for me to say something, you thought.

It took you three steps to approach the man, you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, explaining that you just moved in next door. He looked at your hand for a moment before finally shaking it.

"I'm Edward... Nashton."

"It's very nice to meet you, Edward Nashton," you smiled at him and he smiled back.

You both stood there for a second, in a bit of awkward silence as you thought of something to say.

"I've-- I've never lived in Gotham. I don't really know anyone here..."

"Well, you know me."

You smiled.

"Yeah. I know you," you looked down at your feet. Say something, this is your chance to make you first friend in Gotham, you brain screamed at you. "If-- if you ever want to come over for a cup of tea, or like, I don't know..."

He stared at you, waiting for you to finish your thought.

"If you ever want to get to know each other, you can always just knock on my door," you mumbled out.

"O-Okay, yeah. I, um, I might stop by. Sometimes I'm a bit busy with work and stuff..." Edward stumbled over his words and trailed off.

"Yeah, yeah. No worries! I'll um, I'll leave you be now. It was nice meeting you, Edward."

"And you as well."

As you retreated back to your new home and closed the door, Edward realized something. He had a new obsession.



Edward thought about you all evening. He thought of your voice and your face and the way your hand felt when he shook it. Oh my god your hand. It was so soft, like you had just washed and moisturized it. His mind wondered what it would feel like touching his face, or his bare chest, or his cock. Edward imagined the way your perfect hand would glide along his dick. Fuck he was getting hard already.

He laid in his bed and stripped himself of his pants and then his boxers. He lifted his shirt up to his chest and began stroking his dick while thinking of you. He thought of your smile, then just your lips. He thought about having your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off. God, he would be so lucky if that ever happened.

Edward pumped his cock some more as he thought about your voice. How it would sound if you called him a good boy. Or what you would sound like if your voice was filled with disgust and disappointment if he came too soon for your liking.

"Oh, Edward..." you would say.

And he would just whine and whimper out "I'm sorry..."

Edward would beg for you to forgive him. He would beg to go down on you as an apology.

"Please, please. Let me make you feel good. I'm so sorry," he would say.

He felt his orgasm getting close as he thought about the way you would moan from his mouth on you. Your moans would probably be soft and breathy, like your voice. They might get faster the closer you got to cumming.

"Oh god," Edward moaned out as he felt his orgams building. He stroked his dick faster, focusing on the pleasure he was feeling. His eyebrows lifted and his mouth dropped open as his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. He let out a groan as he came. He continued to pump his cock just a few more times to guide himself out of his orgasm and back to reality. Back to his room. Back to life without you.



It was you third day in Gotham and you had woken up pretty late. It had taken you quite a while to fall asleep last night. The clock on your stove said it was almost 1 in the afternoon. You opened your fridge without thinking and you quickly remembered that you hadn't done any grocery shopping yet when you were met with empty shelves. You had forgotten that you ate out for all your meals during the move. You sighed as you slid on your shoes and grabbed your keys and wallet before heading out the door, locking it behind you. You needed toiletries too. And maybe you'd stop for lunch first. Oh and you needed to find a new bank. God, I guess today is errand day, you thought.

When you returned to your apartment building with bags of groceries and other necessities and made your way to the elevator, you came face to face with Edward.

"Oh, hi! How are you doing?" You asked as you settled into the enclosed area. He stood there for a moment before pushing the button for the fourth floor and then opening his mouth.

"I'm-- I'm good. Just getting home from work."

"Any fun plans for this evening?" You ask, trying to make conversation.

"Um..." Edward pauses to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I--I don't have anything planned, no."

You hummed, then the elevator dinged and the sliding doors opened. The two of you stepped out and made your way to your separate homes.

"Well," you said to get his attention before he went inside. "If you wanted to come over to have something to eat and a chat, I'm free. I've just done some shopping so there plenty to snack on." The truth was, you desperately wanted this friendship with Edward to work out. Not only had you felt lonely last night, you had also felt scared and unsafe. Having someone you trusted next door would set your mind at ease.

Edward stared at you for a few seconds before responding, "Let me-- let me change out of my work attire and then I'll come over." He smiled at you and you smiled back and nodded.

"Okay!" You tried not to sound too excited but your enthusiasm spilled through anyway. "I'll see you soon."

With that, the two of you entered your apartments.

It didn't take Edward long to change from his button up and khaki pants to a t-shirt and jeans. Before you knew it, he was knocking at your door.

"Hey," you said with a smile as you opened the door. "I waited to make food until you got here because I didn't know if you were picky or not. I've got the stuff to make spaghetti and garlic bread, salmon and potatoes, or breakfast for dinner."

Edward thought before responding, "Breakfast sounds fantastic."

Soon, the two of you were working together to make biscuits and gravy and scrambled eggs.

"Would you like some coffee?" You asked him.

"I would love some," he replied with a smile.

"I've got some pumpkin spice creamer too."

"That would be lovely."



Over dinner the two of you made conversation about many things, but mostly work and what working in Gotham is like. You had to explain to Edward that you technically didn't have a job. You had left yours in your hometown and used all of your savings to move somewhere cheaper. Job hunting was in your future for sure, but right now you were enjoying having a few days off to get settled into your new environment.

Edward wanted to tell you that you didn't need to look for a job, he'd be happy to support you. But he knew that might come across as odd for such a new relationship, so instead he just smiled and nodded, listening to your every word.

By the time you both had finished dinner and a whole pot of coffee, the sun had gone down.

"I appreciate you coming over for dinner, Edward. I don't have any other friends in Gotham so it means a lot."

Friend. The word swarmed around in Edward's brain like an angry bee. He didn't want to be your friend. He wanted to be yours.

"Of course! I appreciate the invite. I-- I don't get out of my apartment much," he admitted, looking down in embarrassment.

"Well, I'm glad the both of us are appreciative," you giggled. You stood up and began to clear the dirty dishes off of the two top kitchen table and bring them to the sink for washing.

"Here! Let me help you," Edward said, rushing to get the plates you both had used.

"Oh, Edward, you don't have to."

"I insist," he said. He brought all the dirty dishes to the sink and began to run some soapy water.

"Really, Edward, the dishes can wait."

"Why don't we put on some music and work on them together?"

You began the realize Edward wasn't going to take no for an answer, so you took you your phone and shuffled an indie playlist you had saved on your phone. The two of you worked together on the dishes, him washing and you sinsing and setting them in the drying rack.

"We make a pretty good team," Edward said to you.

"Yeah, I guess we do," you replied with a smile.

Once you both finished, you sighed with relief, "I'm glad those are done and out of the way. Thank you for your help, Eddie." You watched as Edward blushed at the nickname.

"It's no problem, I'm happy to help," Edward said with a smile. You found him sweet, kind. Most guys wouldn't have even helped you cook, let alone do the dishes.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" You asked.

"Ooh, which one?"

"Have you ever seen Carrie?"

And so the two of you settled down on the loveseat to watch the movie. The whole time Edward wished you were cuddling him, or at least holding his hand. He had to reassure himself that good things come to those who wait. He would be yours, eventually.

You enjoyed Edward's company, he made you feel secure. You felt if someone were to break in at this moment, Edward would save you. Something about his presence in the room made living in the most dangerous city in America not so bad. Even while watching a horror movie, you felt calm.

You knew the movie was almost over as the final scene played. Edward jumped as a bloody hand shot out of the ground and you had to hide you giggles. When the credit rolled, you went to stand up.

"I'm gonna make myself a drink, do you want anything?"

"What-- what are you having?" Edward asked.

"I was thinking a vodka soda, that is, if you'll drink with me."

Oh golly, they want to drink?

"One drink couldn't hurt," Edward decides. You give him a toothy grin and head into the kitchen to fix your drinks.

One drink turned into two, and then three as the two of you sat close to each other. At first you had talked about the Carrie, then other Stephen King movies, then horror in general. You learned that Edward was a big fan of practical effects and prefered movies that used them over CGI.

You also learned that, much like yourself, Edward was a lightweight. He was slurring his words as he rambled about Alien, explaining to you how they shot each scene. You enjoyed hearing him talk about things he was passionate about.

"So, you're into science fiction, huh?"

"Oh yes," he says, "but don't get me wrong, a good slasher film is always nice. I find something very... eerie about the idea that just anyone could be lurking in the shadows, ready to kill."

Edward's words sent a shiver down your spine. "I don't know, now that I live in Gotham, I might stay away from slasher films. I don't like the idea of a murderer being around just any old street corner."

"Don't worry, I'd take care of them for you." Edward smiles at you and you smile back, not knowing what else to say.

Edward yawned and checked his watch. "Oh god, I should really head back to my place. I've got work in the morning." Edward stood up slowly, making sure he doesn't fall over as the alcohol hits him. You stand up to want walk him to the door.

"I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you for coming over, Eddie."

"Thank-- thank you for having me. I enjoyed our time together."

"Do you... do you mind if i give you a hug goodbye?" You ask.

Edward stares at you for a moment, and you're afraid he's going to say no, but then his arms are wrapping around you, and instinctively, your arms wrap around him as well. He smelled warm, and felt it too. He held you like you were just glued together, and you might fall apart if he let go too soon. When he finally pulled away, you instantly missed his body heat and his touch.

"Goodbye, Eddie. I'll see you soon, I hope."

"Good night, don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easy. I'm sure I'll see you soon." With that, Edward opened you front door and left. You heard his door open and close before you stepped away from your entryway and back into your apartment.



Edward couldn't stop thinking about the hug you shared with him. He's so touch starved he almost popped a boner right then and there. He'd be lying if he said his dick didn't twitch a little when he held you in his arms. That's why he had to cut it off and leave so soon.

But now he was home, alone. He made his way to his bedroom, stripping his clothes off on the way to lay his bed. He began stroking his cock with a groan and thought of you.

He thought of how you body pressed up against his during your hug, your arms wrapped around him. He wondered if that's how it would feel to have your arms around him as he fucked you. He tried to remember what the warmth from your body felt like, how the heat radiated off of you and onto him in the most comforting way. He continued to fist his cock as he thought of your sweet voice and your kind words.

"Oh, Eddie..." He imagined you moaning out as he fucked you.

He tightened his grip on his dick and moved his hand faster as he pictured you naked, legs spread, taking every inch of him. He'd rub your clit, just to make sure you both came at the same time. And you would moan for him, short and quiet whines. He'd kiss down your chest and take one of your nipples into his mouth and suck on it, just to get a rise out of you.

Edward felt his orgasm approaching as he fucked his fist. God, you made him cum so quickly. He was so close because of you.

"Cum in me, Eddie. Cum inside me!" He imagined you saying. You'd probably clench your hole around him as you both got close. He'd absolutely pound into you just before cumming, chasing his orgasm. He'd fill you up with his cum, claiming you as his and only his. The very thought of cumming inside you is what sent Edward over the edge. And before he knew it, he was cumming into his own fist with a moan.