#owners writing

[deceit-and-knowledge]

If this is against rules/makes you uncomfortable, please delete it. I think it’s reasonable given what I’ve read on other posted asks, but 🤷.

Dearest Truthless, might I bestow an idea unto you? It may also be a potential dare if you would be so inclined.

Joining Sage in his room after he overworked himself the day before, of which I can only assume is common.

Trapping him in a hug for the day as he refused to take a break, perhaps? I imagine you’d both quite like being pressed against each other in a blanket roll with no space to move away.

Should there be struggles or protests? A tighter hug or perhaps flustering him? Testing out that choking kink could be quite the nice idea. And with the blanket, he can’t skedaddle away.

And frankly, it isn’t like we’d know what you’d both do under that blanket.

Food for thought.

—🧩

ooc: ANON. YOU. ARE FEEDING ME WITH THIS IDEA

Uhhhh suggestive warning btw.

(adding some set up)

it was a new day, sage had been working hard all day, locked and held up in the library, seemingly drowning in himself in distractions. Pent up stress kept bubbling up within him as he preoccupied himself in his work. Recluse had been observing this all day. Watching his expression change and the irritation on his face that his studying wasn't going well. Whatever the answer he was looking for was he couldn't get it no matter what.

When truthless recluse heard a little anonymous birdy whisper their idea in his ear. The mere idea of the possibilities filled his uncaring brain. He didn't care about "it's shameful, it's embarassing, it's scandalous" he lost the ability to care about that many years ago.

"wouldn't it be nice for him to release that stress" the recluse thought.

he stood up and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around sage's tense shoulders as he wrote away. His teeth visibly clenched and shoulders hunched, all indications of his anger. His intense frustration...

t: sage.. you've been working all day, shouldn't you have a break..?

f: I'm almost there! I'm almost finished! I can't stop now, okay!

t: .... *Drags sage out of his chair*

f: w-what are you doing!? Recluse! Hey! I'm trying to work! *Grumbling, kicking and squirming but despite recluse's weak grasp sage is weaker*

recluse takes sage to his room, sage's room is decorated in royal blues and golds with repeated eye ball patterns and diamonds. The room looks like it was built for royalty.

t: *pushes sage down onto his bed* relax.

f: h-huh!? Ugh.. no! I can't! I'm almost done with my work *closes eyes and lowers head, shaking it slowly in disapproval* can't I just relax AFTER I'm finished... C'mon recluse.. I beg of you..! I was THIS close...

Recluse stands behind sage on the other side of the bed, thinking of the idea the birdy (the anon) gave him, his love struck heart pounding at seeing sage all pent up and angry. At the mere idea of helping him relive himself of this feeling. Secretly knowing how worked up he can get sage to where he must excuse himself to "relieve" himself. He has a control and hold over his heart, thoughts and body. Why not take advantage of that? He thinks.

t: *crawls onto the bed behind sage and pulls him into the bed/into a hug via wrapping his arms around his waist, placing his hands on his stomach, catching a quick feel of sage's hips*

*snuggles up to sage, pulling the blanket he wrapped over him over the two, placing him into an inescapable burrito of love*

f: r-recluse..?!

t: *snuggles into sage's back, his warm breath pressed against his neck*

f: ...!...R-Recluse.. I really should get back to finishing my work..

t: no..you need to relax.. what~.. can't you relax around your friend?

f: i-i can relax! It's just... you're acting so odd.. you're never like this..

t: I'm trying to get you to relax..

f: well I can't, I want to work! I'm so close!

t: *wraps sage closer to him, pressing sage's body against his*

f: *yelps* r-recluse! You're very um. Touchy! Today! Haha..a-a-are you worried about me?

t: yes.. I am.. *gently moving his hand up to sage's neck*

f: ...!? r-re-recluse!? What..are you...?

t: *rubbing his throat, gently beginning to grasp it. Feeling sage's body jolt from sensitivity and shock at this indulgence of his kink from his friend*

f: a-ah! Mmph.. recluse.. what.. a-are you doing!?

sage fidgets and squirms, protesting against this, but the denial was too obvious. His face blushed and heart rate increased. The fact he's not asking for a time out to "use the restroom". However a thought crosses recluse's mind.

t: I'm not freaking you out am I..?

f: ..huh..

t: *takes hand away* sorry..

f: .......n-no..c-continue.....i...i like it...

t: hm..? You do?... alright.. *brings hand back and grasps sage's neck*

f: (thoughts) ....W...why do I like this.. so much... I'm letting recluse..choke me!? Choking is bad.. but..I like it.. I only..thought maybe..I did..have an interest to this but maybe I actually do...

t: *gently rubbing his face against sage's milky hair*

f: .......h-....harder...

t: huh?

f: harder.. grip...harder..

t: ....you sure..?

f: ....!.....um..... y-yes..please..harder...

Recluse grips harder, making sure to not cut off sage's breathing too much, worried that his breathless speech is from that, lack of sufficient air. Though it becomes obvious pretty quickly to him, hitting him like a truck to an anime protagonist, sending him not to another world but a realisation, sage's panting and breathless speech is from pleasure.

He is writhing in enjoyment at sick, embarassing ecstasy of this little "special interest" of his.

t: ...are you okay..?

f: m-mhm..

t: ....you can tell me to stop whenever..

recluse awkwardly debates what else he should do, so he decides out of morbid curiosity of his body to begin rubbing his hip. It's hard to tell under the blanket what is truly going on, even the choking is masked sage's hair, a totally innocent exchange between two "just friends", yes they have feelings for one another but they aren't dating who would suspect them semi engaging in "sinful" acts. Recluse arguably is the worst here, having more knowledge on love vs lust then his thinking love is an illness bestie. At least they're clothed.

He knows exactly what he's doing to his dear friend, while recluse's void in his heart is filled by company, a void in sage's heart he didn't even know he had initially is filled by a warm sensation of arousal. <- idfk how accurate this I'm asexual as FUCK

toying and teasing him, pulling at his metaphorical strings, tied to his brain and heart. He brings his rubbing hand up to sage's neck, placing a secondary hand upon it. He feels sage's body twitch at this, his hands confusedly at his chest, not knowing what to do with themselves.

t: are you alright?

Sage doesn't speak, he just nods, taking his hand and makes recluse's hands press harder against his neck.

t: don't knock yourself out..

As recluse warns he can audibly hear sage panting, very clearly from enjoying this oddity he likes. The choked cookie squirms in what seems to be discomfort so recluse begins weakening his grip, removing his hands from the cookies neck.

He takes his hands away, feeling and watching as sage hunches over, letting out a gasp followed by a muffled whimper. he shoots up, pressing his hands tightly against his thighs, his shoulders alert and face blue as the sky above. He shakes his head and stammers out an "excuse me!" As he bolts off somewhere.

Recluse sits in confusion, lying there alone on the bed. He sits up and sniffs the air, it's filled with a sickly sweet musk. He debates with himself for a bit about what just occurs, when a realisation hits him.

[zhelin-thames]

A Ghostly Text Mishap

Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.

Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.

Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.

Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.

Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.

He typed back:

Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.

Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.

Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?

Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?

Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.

Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.

Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.

“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.

“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.

Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”

Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?

Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.

Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?

Jason smirked.

Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.

Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.

Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?

Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?

Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”

Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.

Jason: Yet.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.

Danny: That’s not funny, dude.

Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.

Danny sighed, shaking his head.

Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?

Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.

“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.

“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”

[dmitriene]

cw: reader is a cat hybrid.

being simon's riley one and only lap cat, sweet thing with fluffy, fluttering ears and long tail that lays across his lap just as your body, slightly curled, splayed over his muscular thighs and nose burrowing in the cotton fabric of his pajama pants, enjoying the long, delicate strokes of his rough, calloused palm he brushes down your head and to the small of your back, chuckling deep and smoky at the way your spine stretches out beneath the gentle touch.

to be honest, he needed someone who would always be waiting for him at home, not only as a family member, or wife, or children, but something more affectionate, pet like, with fluffy body parts, with constantly needy behavior, curling up on his lap or chest with loud purrs and rubbing against the sloping curve of his stubbled cheekbones, nosing in the crook of his neck sweet and pliable, meowing at the tight squeeze of his pawing hands, going lax anytime he chooses to pick you up or stroke down.

simon loves how you seek him at the early morning light when he crawls out of the bed for his tea, in nothing but the pajama pants and naked chest, muscles softened, covered by the pudgy layer of little fat he accumulated by lazing out with you on the couch or the bed, a place for you to sink your clawed nails in when you follow his form out of the bedroom, curling behind his back, affectionate and clinging, the expanse of his scarred, tissued skin falling victim to your kneading fingers.

you tilt your head and crane your neck out for him when he bends to smother you in tender kisses, scratching behind your ears that flutter at the touch and elicit those adorable purrs deep from your throat, eyes barely open to look at him, enough to see how his own crinkle, pale eyelashes low over the tawny irises, the pupil shudders to dilate in response to yours, focused on with pooling, overflowing tenderness that makes simon so much softer on the usually razory edges, just for you.

simon takes care of you, your every need, especially when you start to whine about how empty and aching you are, your panties sodden, soiled by the slick that oozes and pools down onto the cotton with your need for him, to your gaping hole end up stuffed full of his cock, sheathed deep and secure along your pulsing, viscous walls, tight with warmth as you purr in against his solid chest, nuzzling over the softness of his muscles, as his hand pats across your plump ass.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[ghostbsuter]

The purchase of the mansion was a spontaneous decision on their part.

Sam suggested it, actually.

1 they had the money, 2 they needed much more space than a single apartment could offer, and 3 now she gets to create her own garten of venomous plants!

Tucker holed himself up in his own room, his tech room, because he finally can separate his workspace and his bedroom!

Danny was haunting the mansion in return.

It was during the day that Danny saw the shadow of a child running. He had no idea the mansion was already haunted— why hadn't the ghost said anything before?

Searching for the shadow, it took them all weeks to even get a glimpse of the Ghost.

Only....

Only it wasn't a ghost. It's a whole human child. A human child left behind—

His name is Tim Drake and he has been living here his whole life, how— where were his parents?!

[abyssyby]

— as much as the children take on his more fire-molten qualities, sylus is still very much a dragon in a family of cats

“lucian.” sylus’s groans are a drowsy grinding of granite. his fingers move to gently remove the too-warm little hand pressed to his cheek.

sylus hears an annoyed sleepy whine back. and then nothing, so he allows himself to be pulled back into the tide of slumber

until he’s plucked from the water by the fingers over his lips.

“‘fian…” he murmurs, gathering the little grabbers in his palm and placing it over his heart instead.

until the other hand is up and pressed to his eye. “stop, please.”

lucian whines again, bapping his father’s comfortable cheek lightly in a half-conscious tantrum. sylus scrunches his face up until he feels the warmth of the pillowy palm slide over to his earlobe and take hold. he sighs, he supposes he doesn’t mind that one. he leaves it, and lucian falls asleep.

maybe now—

bap.

finally sylus peels his lids open in tired surrender. to his right, he finds mochi-ball cheeks smushed against his pillow, kyros’s arm outstretched entirely to reach his chin. his sleepy eyes drooping as his fingers rub against the prickly stubble that grows there.

relief floods him when he sees your silhouette against the little light through the heavy curtain come towards him. to help, he assumes— help him out of the pile. “sweeti— oof!”

your head knocks the breath out of him as you come to rest it on his belly. he watches as you turn to your side to meet his eyes, and bend your arm to place over his chest. you sigh, content. “30 minutes, Sy.”

he hums, low and resonant in your ear on his body. sure, he scoffs. you’ve never had a 30 minute nap in your entire life. but he relents, sinks back into his daze and registers the weight of his family on his body.

30 minutes, he considers. his boys on either side of his head, his face a sensory mat for their fingers, and his beloved rubbing soothing circles over his chest.

he can’t help but chuckle at the thought that your feline qualities have begun to manifest in your children too. three loves of his life, making biscuits over his skin.

30 minutes, he agrees, although he truly doesn’t mind forever.

✧˚ ⋆｡ read more with the little twins here || more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I 2.1k I different first meeting I modern au I one sided enemies to lovers I rated T

“I mean, if looking like a dyke is the goal, you're nailing it,” Steve tells Robin as she holds the phone back to showcase her date outfit. “Change the belt, I think-”

He hears a throat clear behind him and spins around to find Eddie the bar manager standing behind him, a blank face and closed off body language.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Rob, I have to go. I'll text you after work.” He hangs up on her and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. “Sorry about that. Hi, you must be Eddie.” He holds out his hand to shake but Eddie just looks at it. He lowers it, the sting of rejection biting low in his stomach. “Um. Harvey said you just got back from a tour? That's cool.”

“Mmhmm.” He sniffs. “You're on garnish duty,” he says, cold and succinct, before turning away.

It's only Steve's third day behind the bar but he'd been slinging drinks with Rachel the night before. Barback duties are beneath him, he's got six years bartending experience. He doesn't want to complain though, not to Eddie who hated him on sight, and not during his first week.

They stay out of each other's way for the first half of the night, Steve relegated to the back, slicing limes and making the pre-mixes.

He's not used to being hated so thoroughly like this. Eddie hasn't uttered a word directly to Steve since sending him to the back, but he catches Eddie's eye a few times and it's like ice water down his back. The people-pleasing little boy in him wants to cry but he's a grown fucking man, he's not going to let this bother him. Just because he was looking forward to meeting Eddie, wanted to make a friend here, wanted to get to know the guy who managed the bar when he wasn't shredding across the country. Maybe if the owner hadn't talked Eddie up like he was the next Chris Martin…or whoever the metal equivalent of that would be. And, yeah, he'd seen the photos of Eddie, the Polaroids behind the bar of him with staff and guests, and thought he was stupid hot, with his tangled curls and the dimples, and maybe he'd had some inappropriate thoughts about his in absentia boss, and maybe he'd fantasized about flirting at the end of the night, and maybe-

Anyway, it's all good. Eddie doesn't owe him kindness or friendship or a single dimpled smile. Sometimes people just don't get along and that's okay.

“Your Fernet,” he mumbles as he sets the bottle at Eddie's elbow, head down like a dog that's used to booted feet. He feels like an idiot but Eddie's frosty demeanor feels like it's balanced on a knife's edge, like he could tip over into a blazing explosion if Steve says or does the wrong thing.

Eddie doesn't thank him, just snatches the bottle and walks away.

“You're welcome,” he snarks under his breath after Eddie's well away.

“Can I get a rum and coke?” A guy asks over the counter.

Steve hesitates. He's not welcome at the bar, Eddie has made that abundantly clear, but he wasn't hired as a barback, he's a bartender, so he smiles at the guy and starts making the drink. Eddie is busy at the other end of the bar anyway.

“You're new,” the guy says, making conversation as Steve works.

“Yeah, it's my first week.”

“You liking it so far?”

Steve glances down the bar, watching Eddie shake a cocktail like he's fucking Tom Cruise or something. His face lights up at something the woman he's talking to says and the crack of his laugh travels the length of the bar, punching Steve right in the stomach. His dimples are really something to see in motion.

“Jesus Christ, I wanna wrap you in tinsel.”

Steve whips his head back around. “Huh?”

The guy chuckles. “Because you're pining so hard. Get it? Pine-ing.”

Well shit. He deflates. “That obvious, huh?”

The guy accepts his drink with a shrug. “Maybe not to everyone but to a…certain demographic…” He gives Steve a little limp wristed wave, which makes Steve crack a laugh.

“I'm Steve, by the way,” he holds out his hand, which the guy takes easily, unlike some people.

“Cary, like Cary Grant.”

“Or Cary Elwes.”

“Exactly.” He leans a ways over the bar and mumbles, “Don't look but your boy is watching us.”

Steve forces his body to not stiffen up. “Does he look mad?”

“No. Confused if anything. Pretend like I just said the funniest thing you've ever heard.”

Steve, always down for shenanigans, tips his head back and fakes the loudest howl he can without being too over the top.

“Oh, you're good. He's got his eye on you, doll. Make the most of it.”

Steve leans into the shared space, eyes half-lidded. “I hope he's seething with jealousy. He could've had me six ways from Sunday but instead he decided to hate my guts at first sight.”

“What an absolute dumbass.” Cary reaches up and taps Steve's collarbone. “If I wasn't already taken, and you weren't pining like a Christmas tree, we could've ridden into the sunset together.”

“If only,” Steve agrees with a soft laugh.

“We're out of Matcha.”

Steve jumps out of his skin. Eddie is standing three inches from Steve's side, eyes burning into him like he just caught Steve keying his car.

“Make your own Matcha,” Cary snarks, “Steve and I are getting to know one another.”

Without breaking eye contact with Steve, he growls, “I think Tony, your fiance, would prefer it if Steve made the Matcha.”

Chills run down Steve's back and arms but he maintains composure. “On it, boss.”

He slips out from under Eddie's gaze, finger waving to Cary on his way back to the kitchen. He can hear Eddie chastising but he chooses to ignore him in favor of hyperventilating in the walk-in.

“What the fuck.”

Eyes like black flames, licking up the side of Steve's neck. Collarbones raising and lowering in the light of the bar as his chest moved with each breath. Hands clenched at his sides, white knuckled.

That wasn't cold at all.

He moves on autopilot for the rest of his shift. Eddie doesn't talk to him again but Steve can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, raising the hairs and keeping him from forgetting Eddie’s existence.

Towards the end of his shift, just before midnight, he hears Robin calling his name from the bar. He comes out of the kitchen, happy to see her waving him over, excited to introduce her date. He probably shouldn't encourage this behavior, it's his first week after all, but the restaurant is closing and the bar is empty.

“Hey, you must be Chrissy,” he greets the petite woman at Robin's side, takes her tiny hand in his and gives it a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same! I couldn't believe it when Robin said you'd just started here. Like, it's a crazy coincidence.”

He cocks his head but before he can ask, Eddie comes bounding over from the other side of the bar and lifts Chrissy up off her stool, swinging her in a circle while she shrieks with laughter.

“Apparently Eddie is her best friend,” Rob fills him in, sort of unnecessary at this point. Steve wouldn't have been able to imagine Eddie looking so happy, he'd been so sour faced all night. Even when he'd been laughing with the customer earlier, it was only a fraction of this.

“Tell me everything,” Chrissy is saying after he puts her down. “Last I heard you loved Cleveland and hated Boston, which I maintain is insane.”

“And I maintain you didn't have to navigate the Boston roadways with Boston drivers,” Eddie argues, still grinning. “But it was great. Exhausting but…yeah, fucking awesome.”

“I'm so proud of you, Eds. You deserve it.”

He actually fucking blushes, which is devastating to Steve's crush. Just devastating.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “Oh, sorry, you must be Robin. Thanks for bringing Chris to see me.” He shakes her hand, not hating her on sight, Steve notes.

“No problem, but I didn't, she brought me here to see the Dingus.” At Eddie's confused look she throws a thumb back at Steve, who waves.

“Yeah, hi. Your best friend is dating my best friend. Sorry. Guess that means you're stuck with me.”

His frown doesn't abate with this explanation.

“Because they're lesbians. She's gonna have me helping her move into Chrissy’s place in, like, a week.”

“Shut up!” Robin reaches across the bar to slap the shit out of his arm and then tosses a lemon wedge at him when he jumps back out of swinging range. Chrissy giggles at them.

“Knock it off, I worked hard on those.” He picks the wedge up off the floor and tosses it into the trash. Three points.

When he looks back up, Eddie is staring at him, wide eyed.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Steve questions.

“Ohhh.” He presses his wrists into his eye sockets.

Steve looks at Robin and Chrissy in confusion but they're both as lost as him.

“I'm an asshole.” He hasn't removed his hands yet.

“Yes,” Chrissy agrees immediately, “what did you do, Eddie?”

He finally looks up at Steve, who takes a step back, involuntarily. They stare at one another for thirty seconds. Or two days. He's not sure.

“Eddie?” Chrissy prompts again.

“I-” He turns around and walks away.

Chrissy rushes after him and yanks him back. They get into a tug match, which Chrissy wins, somehow.

“I love her,” Robin mumbles.

“I fucking said. Less than a week.”

She slides a look his way, one that reads ‘Like you're any better.’ He shouldn't have told her about his plan to seduce his boss, who he hadn't even met yet.

“Whatever you did, you apologize right now,” Chrissy commands to a pouting Eddie.

Steve stands there, eyebrows up, as Eddie grumbles an apology that would do an eleven year old Dustin proud.

“What is happening right now?” He wonders aloud.

Eddie folds his arms across his chest, his black button down stretching across his shoulders beautifully. “I heard your conversation with Robin earlier. You said something about her looking like a dyke and…I made an assumption on the kind of person you were. And I was an asshole to you because of it. I'm sorry.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers in understanding. A weight lifts off his chest. “Fuck. That's hilarious.” He can't stop the giggles from erupting.

“Okay, in my defense, most straight guys don’t get a pass.”

Steve and Robin look at each other and crack up. He wants to ask what Eddie thinks was going on with Cary if he assumed Steve was straight but Robin shrieks, “You think I would hang out with a straight man!”

“Hey! You did hang out with me when I thought I was straight!”

She shakes her head like a smug asshole. “Debatable. You've always been a lil fruity. Tommy H? Whatever that was with Billy? C'mon.”

Steve takes a turn at slapping her. When he looks back up, he finds Eddie looking at him like a kid who just found coal in his stocking, dark eyes wet and bottom lip desperately trying not to pout.

“Holy shit, stop making that face,” Steve begs.

“I can't.”

Chrissy leans up on her knees, wobbling precariously on the stool, to physically push his lip back where it belongs. He smacks her hand away and then puts his own back up to his eyes, pushing hard.

“This is divine punishment. The universe sensed I was too happy so they sent you to test me. Big fat F, just like always,” he mumbles, nonsensically.

Steve looks to Chrissy to translate.

She puts a finger to her chin, looks between the two of them, and then concludes, “He thinks you're hot and that he ruined his chances by being a prick.”

“Chrissy!” Eddie's shriek puts Robin's to shame.

But he's not denying it.

Steve makes extremely pointed eye contact with Robin and says, “It's getting late. Eddie and I have to close the bar. You should see Chrissy home.”

She nods, slow and then quick, as the message lands.

“Yes! Yes, let's get going. Leave these guys to…close the bar.”

Smooth.

They giggle the entire way out the door but Steve ignores them. Eddie is staring again, dark eyes pinning him to the mirror behind the bar.

“I was going to ask earlier but I didn't think it was appropriate…”

Eddie swallows, throat bobbing. “Ask what?”

“What's the company policy on fraternization?”

As a former jock, Steve is thoroughly impressed by Eddie's form as he vaults the bar.

[lets-steal-an-archive]

Hannibal scripts are now on TV Writing!

Season 1

Hannibal 1x01 - Aperitif

Hannibal 1x02 - Amuse-Bouche

Hannibal 1x03 - Potage

Hannibal 1x04 - Ceuf

Hannibal 1x05 - Coquilles

Hannibal 1x06 - Entree

Hannibal 1x07 - Sorbet

Hannibal 1x08 - Fromage

Hannibal 1x09 - Trou-Normand

Hannibal 1x10 - Buffet-Froid

Hannibal 1x11 - Roti

Hannibal 1x12 - Releves

Hannibal 1x13 - Savoureux

Season 2

Hannibal 2x02 - Sakizuke

Hannibal 2x03 - Hassun

Hannibal 2x04 - Takiawase

Hannibal 2x05 - Mukozuke

Hannibal 2x06 - Futamono

Hannibal 2x07 - Yakimono

Hannibal 2x08 - Su-zakana

Hannibal 2x09 - Shiizakana

Hannibal 2x10 - Naka-choko

Hannibal 2x11 - Ko-No-Mono

Hannibal 2x12 - Tome-wan

Hannibal 2x13 - Mizumono

Season 3

Hannibal 3x01 - Antipasto

Hannibal 3x02 - Primavera

Hannibal 3x03 - Secondo

Hannibal 3x04 - Aperitivo

Hannibal 3x05 - Contorno

Hannibal 3x06 - Dolce

Hannibal 3x07 - Digestivo

Hannibal 3x08 - The Great Red Dragon

Hannibal 3x09 - …and the Woman Clothed with the Sun

Hannibal 3x10 - …and the Woman Clothed in Sun

Hannibal 3x11 - …and the Beast from the Sea

Hannibal 3x12 - The Number of the Beast Is 666

Hannibal 3x13 - The Wrath of the Lamb

Source: https://sites.google.com/site/tvwriting/us-drama/us-drama-collections/hannibal

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight Masterlist

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Fic Warnings: DARK AU, noncon/dubcon, stalking, coercion, threats, gaslighting, inner turmoil, violence, creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

Fic Status: Ongoing with tentative updates every other Sunday.

A/N: Club owner!Bucky obsessed with you wouldn't leave my brain and now we have this! Hope you lovelies enjoy! ❤️ Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[ashamaxxing]

mom come pick me up they’re defending the divine right of kings on asoiaf twitter again

[deceit-and-knowledge]

ooc: idk if umbrella anon was asking for them to be vampires or if they want their jam samples. If this is written absolutely brain-dead refer to main blog 2-3 hours ago from posting this 😭 (I MEAN- LOOK AT WHAT THIS BLOG IS ABOUT)

s: ugh.. *holding his bleeding hand*

Pure vanilla cookieee~~ I need medical care *dramatically faints into his arms, hurt hand pressed to his forehead like some fucking diva*

pv: huh- oh bluebird what happened to your hand..

s: nothing~ I was sewing something for the recluse..annd the needle slipped!

pv: hm.. alright.. *sits shadow milk on the floor and kneels down next to him*

s: I could heal myself butttt you're better.

pv: you're stronger than me..

s: well...

You know why I'd want you to do it.. I know I can heal myself..

pv: ...

s: ......

I WANT YOUR ATTENTION DAMNIT!..

ugh....

pv: aww shadow milk cookie.. *gently strokes his head then takes the injured hand*

....

Mm..

s: what's wr-

pv: nothing! I'm alright haha..

*looking at the jam with his slit eyes*

....

...no..i can't why do I have such a strong ur- ...

....m..mph..

.....

........

... shadow....milk cookie..

would.. you......mind if I.. um.. *mumbling*

s: what ever you're yapping about just do it!

pv: .......

*takes shadow milk's hand and puts it to his mouth, licking and drinking his jam, whilst biting the wound to let more jam seep out*

s: ....!?

.... *Notices how uncomfortable and embarrassed pv looks*

....hey..sunshine.. *gently caresses pvs cheek* what's wrong..?

pv: ....y...y'know how anons were saying.... I might be a vampiric..

I... I have such an...intense craving for jam... I'm so sorry...

s: heyy don't apologise! And don't cry-..

pv: I... I just feel like a mess today I'm sorry... I'm..really emotional...

I'm so sorry for biting you..

s: hey hey no it's alright~. You want jam, I can provide! Now eat up! It's good to see you have something go to your stomach even if it's my jam.

pv: *reluctantly returns to drinking*

s: there there..

pv: ....*licking the wound* ...

This...feels wr-

s: this isn't wrong. Anyone who thinks it is can burn up in the oven along with those PATHETIC witches.

its alright .. drink up.

pv: ....

...okay..

s: there you go! I must taste good!

pv: y-you..do..

*stops drinking and quickly/frantically patches shadow milk up before hurrying off to his room*

s: ....

Huh...

Welp! Geuss I accidentally created myself a vampire boyfriend..!. Whoops!....

[zhelin-thames]

Wrong Number texts #1

Danny: So then Skulker decides the best way to catch me is by building a giant robot suit. But he forgot to calibrate it for the Ghost Zone’s gravity, so it immediately toppled over and crushed his entire lair. Absolute genius, right?

Jason: I’m torn between laughing and feeling secondhand embarrassment for him. Do all your villains suck this much?

Danny: Hey, I don’t pick my rogues’ gallery. But yeah, most of them are either weird, incompetent, or trying way too hard. Vlad’s the only real threat, and that’s just because he cheats.

Jason: Billionaires always cheat. It’s in their DNA.

Masterpost

[ink-n-shadow]

i’m back on my owner!ghost bullshit!!

𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut (minors—DNI), pet play, owner!ghost, aftercare, collar/collaring, subspace, unedited

but instead of rough and tough owner!ghost, it’s after a particularly draining scene for you, and owner!ghost is all soft touches and gentle hands. he’s letting your tear-stained and red cheek rest against his sweat-slick thigh as his fingers begin gently undoing the tethers of your metal play collar.

“shh, shh—s’alright, pup. gonna put the soft one back on,” ghost murmurs soothingly when you start squirming in his hold, a slurred whine leaving your mouth as you try and prevent him from taking the play collar off. because in your still delirious and staticky brain, you see it as a sign of him untethering you from him forever.

his calloused fingertips are soothing the reddened skin beneath the metal before tying the soft silk collar you always wear back around your throat, making sure the small metal tag simply etched with a cursive ‘g’ isn’t resting on your irritated skin.

owner!ghost after a scene is lathering your sore body in shea butter, letting you remain a boneless, floaty mess in the ruined sheets as he tries to ease the aches before you come back down to earth.

it isn’t until your entire body is smooth as silk and the stars behind your eyelashes have dimmed to mere glimmers that he’s pulling you to sit up in his lap, head slumped into the curve of his muscled chest and his fingers carding through your tangled hair.

“where’s my baby, hm?” he hums affectionately under his breath as his crooked nose prods against your sticky temple, scarred lips trailing feathery kisses along your hairline amidst your slow decent from your submissive headspace. when he notices you peeking up at him from beneath your lashes still frosted with unshed tears (from the umpteenth orgasm he’d given you for the night), his lips curve into his typical crooked grin.

“there you are—there’s my good pup.”

[zzoupz]

now that artfight is almost here and i got to look at a lot of character profiles i just wanna say i genuinely love the contrast between them

[orchidsarchives]

Jason “teach me your language. i may not be native to your homeland, but let me belong; let me be native to you,” Todd

[dmitriene]

simon riley with a cute puppy girl, the sweetest hybrid just for him, with your soft fluffy ears and eager tail, wagging side to side without stop when you're together, and it's not just your puppy features that are soft.

it's your body, supple and warm anywhere his calloused hand brushes, tingling, making you whine high in your throat with your dilated pupils directed on his warm gaze, teasing, and so loving.

simon treats you with all gentleness and care he can bear in himself, pleasing not only you with all his attention and any gifts he can get to make you comfortable, but also your tight little pussy.

rewarding you everytime your little brain turn overwhelmingly horny, holding you down against the soft cotton sheets, stuffing load after load in your gooey hungry hole, squelching with all gushing slick that mixes with simon's thick cum.

your tail thumping in delight against the bed, mouth agape with pitched yaps and pleas for him to fill you up, breed your hole even through your cunt is already unclenching with sticky globes of milky cum leaking out between your thighs and supple ass.

simon kisses your puppy ears, feeling how they flutter under his face as he nuzzles in your soft fur, enveloping you in small praises and smothering kisses, making everything he can so you'll feel taken care of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[bunny-jpeg]

puppy hybrid!simon (18+)

inspirations taken from this post

price had to go away for a little while, which was hard to tell his favourite puppy! he had only recently taken you in and it was hard for him to leave you behind. you were all mopey and sad eyes a week before he left. originally he was going to have you stay at a hybrid daycare for the duration of his time away.

but johnny had another idea! he said that he'd watch you! he joked that if he could handle the mutt hybrid he called simon, he could handle a purebred like you. with your floppy ears and cute tail!

you were so well behaved and price was so proud of you. he made sure anything you needed was packed up for your little "trip" to visit johnny and simon.

johnny wasn't as good of a owner as he propositioned to price. he went out to the bar with kyle for an evening, which left price's pretty (expensive) puppy with the bully mixed mutt that was simon.

didn't take long for the much larger hybrid to almost tear off your cute little clothes and just fuck you. he had his arm around your middle as he pushed his cock as far as it could go. he knew he was hitting up against your cervix.

he chuckled, "gonna make a new breed of puppy with you." his voice was low and grumbled, it made you soaked between your legs as he stretched out your poor little cunt.

when you thought that he was done, he enjoyed when you'd scamper off to go pee or get some water. it only encouraged him to sniff out his mate, as if the trail of his cum leaking down your leg didn't make it easy enough.

he made a face when he saw the trail, it should be in you, little pup! not all over the hardwood floor! eventually he had you over the couch, behind the kitchen island, in the bathroom and finally in simon's bed where he could smother your purebred scent with his.

johnny knew he was fucked when he came home the next morning and found you naked under a partially clothed simon. your belly a bit swollen from the gallons of hybrid cum stuffed in there.

"price, i'm so sorry. i didn't know, i thought he was well behaved!" johnny looked pale when price came home to get you.

you were curled up in simon's arms in the doggy bed. gone were the cute pink bows and little outfits, you were swimming in simon's cheap black t-shirt with a motorcycle on it. but even price could see the slight slope in your belly.

"but, price!" you whined when your owner tried to pull you away from the mutt, as last ditch effort to save you. you kicked out your little legs, "i love him."

the older man sighed. spoiled little puppy. he ended up taking in simon too, he saw how anxious you were without your mate. johnny promised the dog hybrid to visit often but simon was too busy snuggled up with his new missuses (sorry johnny!). now price has two hybrids to take care of plus whatever was slumbering in your belly.

you were still price's little puppy, even if your attention was split between owner and mate. when you ate at the table to eat, you'd give simon a light smack on the hand if he was eating like a prisoner. you pouted your lips and shook your head.

simon sighed and took you by the head to kiss one of your soft ears, "sorry, love." at least price didn't have to train the mutt, you were doing the hard work for him.

simon followed you like a shadow, protective of his mate. and even the home you inhabited. you'd often lie on the doggy bed with simon behind you, large hand on your swollen middle and his lips at the back of your neck. but the mutt wasn't fully house trained. there had been a few times that price would be watching the football game and he could hear the whines of his beloved puppy, only to look over and see simon just pinning you down and rutting against you.

"bad dog." price grumbled as he tried to grab simon by the collar, "she's already pregnant, you animal!"

but price had to admit, you were rather cute all pregnant. if anything your floppy ears only got softer, your smile on wider. price had just wished you picked a mate of a higher caliber.

he wouldn't mind puppies, but you were of a softer breed. you shouldn't have ended up with a bully of a dog. but price had to (begrudgingly) admit, it was nice to know when he went out that there was guard dog in the house.

that didn't mean he was the biggest fan of simon.

"get off of her, simon." price rolled up the newspaper to wack the mutt hybrid, "she's got no room in her for that. she's already swimming in puppies!"

simon growled and just fucked between your thighs until he made a mess of himself. the older man looked at the hybrid and the hybrid looked back in defiance.

you on the other hand were sound asleep on the doggy bed, covered in simon's cum. even that stretch marked lined belly was too.

price was only in his late thirties, he thought he was a little young to be a grandfather figure to the rowdy puppies that you give birth to. all with your beautiful eyes but the personality and points ears of their father.

"i need another drink."