#ugliest pop

[piosplayhouse]

Welcome Shen Seven Balls into the world!!! What the fuck is this thing .

Showing the eraserhead baby she birthed to her wife

Immediately after she wanted to do it again . Insane

[shutinlear53]

Which way, Eastern European man?

The W210 is such an ugly duckling already, but people still manage to make it worse

[enden-k]

oh my god I have Neuvillette guaranteed as well

I mean I will have. I plan on pulling for freminet when he will be in play (i like him and lynette, lynne not so much he an archer I don't like archers) and that's it and odhdhjsjajdhd Neuvillette will be mine

(I thought about pulling for childe or zhongli but childe is an archer as well and I hate that and i might have to spend close to if not all my primos to get zhongli and like. nah. Neuvillette baby wait for me)

I got excited for him sorry. Like. I get it. I want him to be my first five star tbh

taru is not just an archer but also dual wielding hydro blades, thats what he does most of the time. hes pretty fun to play if you enjoy fast paced combat but i understand if you dont like playing archers akjbck (even tho he only half classifies as one, really. unlike ganyu or yoimiya)

i keep telling my friends not to pull on banners for a 4star if they save for a 5star in the next banner (but when do they ever listen huh, im looking very intently at a certain dear friend of mine) since getting a specific 4star is often more difficult. i think when kaveh released, lots of ppl became more or less unwilling baizhu havers ajkscbk

but ye if you rlly wanna go for freminet, zhongli is a good choice if you dont have him already and wouldnt mind getting him. hes one of the best supports in game and got the best shield

if youre not rlly interested in zl or a standard 5star breaking your 50/50, i rlly would recommend reconsidering pulling if you want neuvillette to be your first 5star. freminet will always come back for a rate up, and probably sooner than neuvillettes rerun

(i can understand that btw bc i dont rlly like lyney design and gameplay wise, have the other 3 rerun characters and only wanted lynette and freminet but my guaranteed neuvillette is sacred so i have to skip freminet hhdjk)

[kingcunny]

*me shoving the crabfeeder funko up my pussy*-huh. oh yeah haha. who would want……. crabfeeder……………loool thats crazzzyy

[i-am-the-myrmidon]

[bingus-bing-bong]

Ill be honest i did not expect much out of Inzoi but somehow i spent all day in the game and im really having fun.

It clearly is still an Early Access game but given the reviews about gameplay being boring or not worth it yet its doing better than i thought.

[ghostingcrows]

"I hate it here"

*Sees transformers art*

"Oh my god I love it here!!"

[karlachismylife]

Simon Riley got his fingers fucked up. Time spent under Roba's torture messed up the joints, made his digits barely able to flex and curl and left him with chronic pain, especially once the temperatures start to drop. It's alright, not the worst thing he came out of that encounter with, he can live with it. Doesn't bother him even that much.

It's just that Simon Riley used to love knitting.

Soft, creamy white, thick yarn turning into volumunous sweaters with huge warm collars his mother and his brother's bird could wear, safe from the nasty winter chill. Stripey socks, comfortable hats, long fluffy scarves - he could and would do it all.

Roba took it from him. Knitting needles became almost impossible to hold properly, struggling over the yarn mess for more than 15 minutes pisses him off and makes him never want to pick it up again. He can barely make a couple rows of a shitty excuse of a scarf, let alone finish a single thing.

And then Soap brings his LT over to his family home for their joint leave - two whole weeks in a household full of bustling life, hearty food and loving banter. In the evenings, when Johnny and all the younglings of the family have already spent their buzzing energy and are snoring in their beds, sometimes piled up like tired puppies, Simon and Mama MacTavish both are kept up by their insomnia. In a pleasantly dimly lit living room, this beautiful woman with white hair and noble profile sits, kitting - soft white wool of Highlands' best sheep turning into a sweater in her hands.

Simon comes to sit with her, calmed down by the sounds her needles make and the hypnotizing movements of her hands. First couple of nights he just lets it lull him to sleep before Mama MacTavish sends him off to wam bed with her snoring son already sprawled across it like a starfish.

Then Simon picks up needles himself. It's a slow, torturous process, his grip slipping, threads coming apart, frustration and anger at his useless fingers building - yet Mama's hands always come to rescue. She soothes the pain in his fingers, helps fix uneven loops, tells him stories of Johnny's childhood to distract Ghost from his angry mind. It works.

By the end of the leave he presents Soap the ugliest knitted hat with pompoms stitched to it in a row resembling a mohawk, and you bet Johnny wears it all the time, flexing in front of everyone who sees him in this monstrosity. He takes it to all the places he shouldn't, stubbornly unwilling to part with the gift, and loses pompoms - yet somehow Simon constantly sees new ones pop up on the hat.

It's Mama MacTavish stitching them on, because she knows, Simon needs a little help with this painstaking work for now.

[sailoryuns]

BABY FEVER 🍼

genre. husband!heeseung x wife!reader

warnings. tooth-aching fluff, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected s*x, impreg kink (!!!), bath time aftercare, i believe that’s it.. wc -> 2.1k

“i’m gonna put a baby in you someday,” your husband casually says while rubbing your stomach.

“in this cute little tummy right here,” he points near your belly button, planting a small kiss to it.

you two were finally alone after heeseung offered to help your parents move and rearrange some of the new furniture that arrived today. you had decided to stay at your family’s beach house over the summer for a change of scenery as you hadn’t been here since you were a teenager, let alone seen your parents in person since last year.

this wasn’t the first time he’s said something like this and it surely won’t be the last, but you burst into a giggle, “quit kidding around, hee.”

he’s always playing around but you can count on one hand how many times he’s actually finished inside you, since you’re not on birth control for health reasons you have to be extra careful to not end up getting pregnant.

there’s been a handful of times where he’s had to run to the store and get you a morning after pill which you’d just hope for the best and leave it up to the universe. you have noticed that heeseung has been more vocal about wanting children lately, so maybe he’s hinting at finally taking the next step.

“and if i told you i wasn’t?” he shifts slightly, eyes flickering up to stare into your gaze. “would you let me paint your walls? give you a baby so i can see my pretty wife bear our children?”

the thought of you carrying his child pops into his head a lot, probably on an hourly basis—he’s more than ready to start a family, but he’s still not sure where you stand 100% on the idea. there was no pressure on his side, but it’s important to make sure you’re both on the same page.

your hands snake up to his chin, cupping it firmly, ready to make the final say once and for all. “yes hee, i’ll let you do anything to me. i trust you, i trust us.”

you’ve never trusted someone as much as you do heeseung, he’s the reason you even get out of bed in the morning, makes you want to push yourself to become a better person. real love is the refusal to never give up on one another, even through the toughest, most ugliest moments.

what you’ve come to realize is that you have all of him and everything he’s promised to provide is all yours; his heart, his last name, his vow to stay by your side forever— through sickness and health. he’s given every single aspect of himself he has to offer, the only thing left that’s missing is a tiny addition that carries both you and heeseung’s DNA. you’re more than curious to see what the outcome will be, harboring no regrets inside. heeseung’s smile grew wider, feeling faint tears rim his eyes at the thought of you putting all your trust in him. you have no idea just how much that means to him.

his head lowers back to your torso, imprinting a trail of kisses, slowly making his way down further and further. your skin feels as if it’s on fire, boiling hot like the scorching summer heat.

he took an ample amount of time to worship your body, leaving wet kisses to your inner thighs, “i’ve wanted this for so long…” he hums against you, insides buzzing with raw passion and desire. “want to finally do this together,” he gently nibbles, a faint bite mark appears to which he repeats on the other side.

“your tits are gonna get even bigger, more plump and so full of milk,” he continues, elated with so much enthusiasm, “that pregnancy glow will make you even more gorgeous.” he wasn’t saying all of this for nothing, he truly cannot wait to experience it all, how your belly will grow each month, all the random/weird food cravings you’ll get, and gracefully handle any sudden mood swings you may have.

you were aching for him, you couldn’t even answer back, your heads reeling with too many thoughts— the thought of him stuffing you to the brim with his cock. you were topless but wanted him to take off the rest, wanted him to fuck you until your body physically shakes and you can’t think of anything but him being buried balls deep into your sousing cunt. you had to savour every last bit of this though, etch every little detail in your brain to replay as a supercut one day; remembering the time you two made love to conceive your first child.

heeseung’s slender digits move skillfully to hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your drenched panties. “it’s crazy to me how this is all mine,” he pauses to admire your glistening arousal, scooping it up with his one of his fingers to have a quick taste— saccharine.

“i have the prettiest, sexiest, hottest wife in the whole fucking world.” he’ll never not compliment you, even when you’re old and gray he will always remain the same.

“oh stopp,” you toy with your bottom lip, feeling your cheeks grow hotter and hotter by his constant sweet talk. then you become a pile of mush, simply too absorbed with pleasure as he sunk one of his digits into you, thrusting in and out slowly.

“fuck.. feels s’good- please don’t stop.” you beg for this to never end, bidding all concept of time to vanish in hopes of it lasting infinitely.

“we’re going to create the most beautiful family,” he coos, licking a stripe to your clit, swiping up and down as he continued pumping his fingers in your wetness, “just you and me.”

he only came up for air to say those last few lines, diving right back in to drink up your deliciousness. his tongue adds light pressure to your overly sensitive bud, making you twitch and subconsciously jolt up— his free hand forcibly brings your hips back down, locking you in place so you have nowhere to go— forced to take all that he gives you. paradise. that’s what this is. you’re already close to the edge, the broken moans that escaped your lips are like a soft ballad to his ears, cursing under your breath, panting, crying out his name repeatedly.

“ah! s’close… don’t stop, don’t stop..” you plea so pathetically, voice getting shakier as you reach your climax, his face was soaked, fucking drenched.

he’ll willingly drown, submerge himself into the flood of you, no other place he’d rather be than between these perfect, plush thighs. he drives you into further insanity when his pace drew more rapid, finding the ultimate sweet spot. the lethal combination of his fingers and his tongue working to give you a mind blowing orgasm, all you could do was utter feeble, plaintive cries, latching onto his fluffy hair as you ride out your sudden high that’s stampeding into you full force. your body goes inert, limbs pliant beneath his embrace.

“you did so good for me angel, so proud of you.” heeseung briefly pecks both your thighs, giving it a little smack once he comes back up to face you again.

he quickly discards the rest of his clothes, but everything’s moving in slow motion. his movements are frantic yet it still wasn’t quick enough, he needs to feel you so badly. his manhood throbs against your folds, sliding his shaft between the puffy, saturated lips, making such delightful sounds.

“quit teasin’,” you whine, not in the mood for prolonging this anymore.

he doesn’t say anything, just twisting a smile in response, but he’ll give you exactly what you want. who is he to deny his wife’s orders? so he finally enters you, filling you up little by little, inch by inch; and when he’s fully settled in, your walls cinch around his length immediately.

“never fails to amaze me how i fuck this little pussy on the daily but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… always squeezin’ me babe.” his breath hitched towards the end, already sounding so pussydrunk from the way you suck in the entirety of him.

your legs hook around each side of his waist, keening at the way his cock drives into you, slow but sensual, moving your hips to match his rhythm.

“be a good girl and wait for me. wanna cum together.” he husks, to which you obediently nod at his request.

your jaw slacks open wide from his cock hitting your walls beautifully, each stroke he gave sent you to a further state of delirium. he picks up his speed a little more, his brain empty with no thoughts but this warm, dewy pussy swallowing him up, groaning as you leave scratches along his back. heeseung’s sweet compliments never stop, they only intensify.

‘you’re all mine, and i’m all yours baby’

‘your face looks so pretty when it’s all fucked out’

‘love fucking this perfect little cunt’ and ‘i love you so much, my angel baby.’

it brings you to the verge, strings of shattered moans evade your senses.

your hands greedily come up the sides of his face, pulling him in for a frenzied, yet passionate kiss caging him in just in case he has second thoughts, trapping him with no choice but to cum inside.

“shit— keep going like that and you’re def getting pregnant tonight.” he groans against your lips, this only made you clench around him tighter,

“please- wan’ your cum, put your babies in me..” you want him to paint your walls white, milk him for all he’s worth and some.

his strokes get sloppier as his high approaches, squeezing your thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t take much longer for him to shoot his load inside, planting every bit of his seed as the waves of your second orgasm ripples through you. you’re both heavily panting and gasping for air, when he pulls out you’re left empty again, but at least you were stuffed with his hot cum. he looks down at the mess he’s made, sodden and creamy, picking up some that’s spilled out of your cunt to push back in.

“we can’t let any go to waste, right ?”

“mm… yea.” you bit your lip, still shaking, static electricity flowing through your veins.

he topples over in exhaustion, way too tired to move. well, at least for now— he’ll be able to go again in another hour or so.

“you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” he says while snuggling up in the crook of your neck.

“remember the day i asked you out? i thought you were gonna say no.” that was random… but when it comes to heeseung, he was practically known for saying the most unexpected shit at the oddest times.

“what?” you were so confused, firstly this came out of nowhere, but also why would he ever think that? it was basically love at first sight with each other.

“wasn’t nearly as confident back then, i used to practice in the mirror how i’d do it.” he chuckles at those old memories, in hindsight none of it was necessary because he didn’t say any of the lines he rehearsed. defeated the whole purpose.

“since the day we first met i knew you were the girl i’d spend the rest of eternity with.” his fingers trace down your spine as he spoke, you’re so overfilled with joy that you could cry. you regret absolutely nothing, the only thing you do is all the other men who came before heeseung, all those losers who were wastes of time, but that journey has led you here and this is where you’ll stay for the rest of your life. it still feels like the honeymoon stage with him, a never ending blissful rollercoaster.

he’s a romantic at heart just like you, he still writes occasional love letters to you and is always doing something to bring a smile to your face— whether it be coming home with your favorite candy, buying you flowers, or taking you out on cute, fun dates. every day is like a new surprise, never knowing what you’re gonna get when it comes to your husband’s spontaneity.

you’re both a little sticky, sweaty, and smell of nothing but pure sex. heeseung ends up carrying you all the way to the bathroom, deciding to run a nice, relaxing bath for the two of you. he adds your favorite lavender bubble bath, making the water extra bubbly and soapy for you which he knows you love.

when you’re both in the bathtub, your backs facing him as he uses a loofah to clean you up, embedding gentle kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders as he does it. he held you for what seemed like forever, just admiring each other’s company while under the water, almost falling asleep right in his arms.

writing smut at 10 am is crazy work 💀😂 but uhhh this is a mess and all over the place idec, i just need husband!hee more than oxygen fr #breedable #heescumdump <3

[thelittlemars]

one thing you must know about me is that I own a vast and growing collection of nightmare before christmas stuff. my latest addition is a second-hand dvd that has no leaflet inside and i have no proof it works. my first item in the collection is the original italian vhs of the movie that i hope it still works because i used to watch it all the time when i was a kid. i am very proud of my collection

[mikufigureoftheday]

I’m the devil’s advocate I like the pop, the youtooz, and soda pop version of miku. I love her in every shape of form. If you guys don’t love her at her ugliest then you don’t deserve her at her prettiest ❤️❤️ /lh

In short:

[noharaaa]

𝐌𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐠 (𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐱 !𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Author’s Note: Disclaimer! This plot is not to encourage drug usage! Don’t do drugs people!

• Reader has no specific gender.

• Parody fic! This is all for jokes.

Enjoy Reading!

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

Back in your more questionable days, Choi Su Bong was a frequent (and unforgettable) customer. He’d show up at the oddest hours, paying in cryptic compliments and half-finished rhymes while buying from your stash. You were just trying to make a living, but he treated every transaction like a chapter in some epic cosmic romance. He was the aspiring rapper who thought the universe revolved around him, and you were the unlucky drug dealer stuck listening to his "intergalactic" bars. You thought those days were behind you….until now, when fate (or bad karma) brought him crashing back into your life in the most ridiculous way possible.

part 2 ‖ 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You thought you would never see him again. Not here in this neon nightmare of death games and psychopathic guards. But there he was: Thanos, in all his glory, with that fucking green jump suit that somehow made him look dumber than whatever way he already looked.

“Y/N,” he said, “Fancy seeing you here.”

You groaned. Loudly. “Of course, it’s you. The universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to allow me to escape this.”

“Cruel? Or destined?”

Yep. That’s right. Back when you were still deep in the game... no, not this death game, the other one, with the gangs and dealers and all of the cursed undergound deals you used to sell to him inthhe past. He wasn’t really ‘Thanos’ at that point. No, he was just Choi Su Bong, a wannabe rapper with a galaxy-sized ego.

And yeah, sure, he paid well (sometimes in bundles he claimed were from a “distant realm,” but who cares), but at the price of listening to him rap the ugliest bars you ever heard. You thought you were forever done with that life. But now?

Now, he’s here. In your face. In this game. While somehow managing to “flirt” in the most awkward, over-the-top ways imaginable.

“What on earth are you doing here?” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Your rap career flopped, or what?”

His exaggerated chuckle made a few of the other players look nervously in your direction, “The rap game couldn't handle me,” he said, “But I knew destiny would unite us again.”

“Destiny? Or that you can’t stay out of trouble?”

He ignored that. “Remember our late-night deals? The way we’d share whispers in the dark with secrets exchanged like precious jewels?”

Seriously?

You stared at him. “Thanos, I sold you weed.”

“Cosmic weed,” he corrected you with his finger held up, “And inspiration.”

“Uh, no? I sold you product … so you could get high and spit more of those garbage raps of yours.”

“I know you meant to say terribly brilliant raps,” he corrected one more time. “And now, here we are. Two fighters in this brutal game, bonded again.”

“I’m trying to survive. not write a duet with you,”

He grinned mischievously. “But survival is an art. And the two of  us? We’ll create a masterpiece together.

Before you could unload with all the insults bubbling in your  throat, Nam-gyu (Player 124) popped out of thin air and attached himself to Thanos like a lost puppy. “Hey, Boss! Who’s your friend?”

“Y/N,  meet Nam-su.”

“Nam-gyu.” Player 124 corrected.

Thanos corrected  himself, “Meet Nam-gyu. My… sidekick.”

Nam-gyu grinned. “Boss says I’ve got potential. What about you? Are you friends with him or something?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Sure.”

The purple-haired boy added, his voice dripping with innuendo, “More than friends.  Kindred spirits. Partners in destiny.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes widened. “Whoa. That’s deep.”

“It’s delusional” you muttered.

Nam-gyu looked between the two of you. “So… is this like, a thing? You guys got history?”

Thanos smiled, the kind of smile that made you want to punch it off his face. “A cosmic connection, forged in the fires of ambition and—”

“If you say ‘destiny’ one more time, I swear I’ll throw you into the next game.”

Nam-gyu whistled quietly, leaning closer to Thanos. “Feisty much?”

“They’ve always had a fiery temper,” Thanos said, not even trying to hide his amusement. “One of the many things I admire about them.”

“Admire all you want,” you said, crossing your arms. “But if you think I’m going to partner up with you again, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He shrugged, utterly unfazed. “We’ll see, Y/N. We’ll see.”

You huffed, turning on your heel and walking away, hoping to find literally anyone else to align with in this twisted game.

And you knew, deep down, that fate (or your seriously bad luck) wasn’t done with you yet.

part 2 ‖ 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

Author’s Note: (Leave a like! Or reblog! I respond to anyone ❤️)

[jennxxe]

SFW Alphabet // Erik Campbell.

pairing — erik campbell x fem! reader

warnings — mentions of smoking, cursing

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— Not openly mushy. If he hugs you in public, he's probably bleeding or drunk.

— But privately? He’s all hands, forehead kisses, brushing your hair out of your face like he hates how soft it makes him feel.

— Calls you annoying while pulling you into his lap. Sends you memes at 3AM like it’s a love letter.

— Shows up with coffee he swears he didn’t buy “for you,” but it’s your exact order down to the oat milk and double syrup.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— Started with him making fun of your shirt or your music taste. You snapped back. It’s been soul-bonded bickering ever since.

— Your biggest bully in a loving way.

— Would sneak you out of boring parties, start fights with guys who talk over you, and give you his last cigarette like it’s no big deal.

— He won’t say it, but you’re the only one he trusts with the ugliest parts of himself. Ride or die, even if he acts like he's being held hostage.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— Acts like cuddling is for losers. Then spends the night with his face buried in your chest.

— Has to be the one holding you. Wraps an arm around your ribs, throws a leg over yours, and traps you like you’re trying to escape (you’re not).

— If you get up to pee? He complains. Grabs your pillow. “Where the fuck d’you think you’re going?”

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— Doesn't dream of white picket fences, dreams of a crash pad with blackout curtains and a you-shaped dent in the couch.

— Can’t cook for shit. Once lit a Pop-Tart on fire. But he will try if you’re tired or sad.

— Cleaning is rare, but if you’re overwhelmed? He’ll scrub the tub while blasting Misfits and muttering about the government.

— Secretly loves the idea of cohabitating. His toothbrush next to yours? Gets him right in the chest. He won’t say it, but he likes coming home to you. Especially if you're wearing one of his ratty band tees.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— Messy. Quiet. Self-sabotaging. He’d pull away first, hoping you’d do the hard part.

— If you called him on it, he’d say something cruel and hollow to make it easier for you to leave. Pretends like he doesn’t care.

— And if you ever came back? He’d take you back without hesitation, pretending like he didn’t cry into his pillow listening to The Cure.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— Commitment? Terrifying. The mention of him in a wedding makes him physically recoil. But when it’s you, it doesn’t feel like chains, it feels like gravity.

— Wouldn’t talk about marriage, but he’d wear a ring if you gave him one. Not on his finger through, on his necklace. Touches it when he misses you.

— He’d propose in the dumbest way. Probably mid-argument. “Whatever. Marry me then, if you’re so smart.”

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— Physically? Depends on the moment. He’s rough around the edges, but with you? He’s got this soft touch he only uses when you're sad or sick.

— Emotionally? It takes time. He doesn’t know how to be gentle with feelings but he tries. Clumsily. Sincerely. It’s either doing something impulsively or being sarcastically jokey with them.

— If you cry, he gets weirdly quiet and just holds you. Doesn’t talk. Just exists there with you, maybe offers you a cigarette. It’s his way of saying I’ve got you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— He pretends to hate hugs, then melts when you give him one.

— His hugs are tight. All-consuming. He smells like leather and smoke and faint vanilla if you’re lucky.

— He’s a back-hugger. Sneaks up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, mumbles “what’re you doing?” into your neck and acts like he didn’t miss you. Does that pretend hump thing so the moment doesn’t get ‘too serious’.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

— Would rather chug battery acid than say it first.

— But once he says it, it’s like a dam breaks. Suddenly you’re getting half-drunk “I love you”s whispered into your shoulder at 2AM.

— His version might be “You’re it for me.” or getting your name tattooed.

— First time he said it, he swore it slipped out. It didn’t.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

— He says he’s not the jealous type. He’s lying.

— Tries to act unbothered “Yeah, go flirt with that guy, see if he can handle you.”

— The second someone even looks at you wrong, he’s glaring daggers. He gets touchy when he’s jealous, arm around your waist, pulling you closer, whispering stuff like “Mine, remember?”

— Might act extra smug when he kisses you in front of them. Petty king.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— Messy. Intense. He kisses like he fights—rough, breathless, sometimes a little too much. And then pulls back like he’s scared he went too far.

— Loves kissing your neck. Will press his lips to your pulse like he’s trying to memorize it.

— Likes being kissed on his jaw or his forehead. Pretends it annoys him. Secretly melts every time.

— First thing in the morning, last thing before bed, halfway through arguments, he’s always finding excuses to kiss you. It’s his grounding wire.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

— Terrified. Absolutely horrified by kids. They’re loud, sticky, and ask too many questions

— But when one shyly hands him a drawing or calls him “mister”? He softens. Like, visibly. Grits his teeth and goes “cool, kid,” but he’s folding it into his wallet later.

— Would never admit it, but he kind of… respects them. They’re brutally honest and slightly unhinged. Just like him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

— He’s a complete zombie in the mornings. Mute. Hair a wreck.

— The kind of guy who doesn’t function until caffeine and kisses hit his bloodstream. But he also makes killer coffee.

— Grumpy as hell. Looks like he got hit by a truck and swears the sun is out to kill him.

— Sleeps shirtless, hair a mess, glaring at you from one eye like “why are you vertical?”

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

— Total night owl. Chaos. Loud music, dumb jokes, feet in your lap while he picks at old scabs. Or total silence while you both scroll through your phones under the same blanket.

— Nights with him mean takeout on your floor, bad horror movies, deep conversations he pretends he doesn’t care about but always initiates.

— Sometimes he won’t sleep until he knows you’re curled up safe next to him. He’ll pretend he just “wasn’t tired” but really, he can’t sleep without you anymore.

— When the lights are off, he gets softer. Traces circles on your skin, kisses your collarbone like it’s a habit.

— Night is when he talks the most. Late-night honesty hits him like a truck, and suddenly he’s telling you stuff he’s never said out loud.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

— Slowly. Painfully. He opens up like a locked box, and you're the crowbar but only for certain things.

— For small things little things like what music he likes, why he hates certain holidays, gossiping etc. he opens up pretty fast. One of those was probably even a conversation starter.

— Weirdly enough, the only things that are slow for him to open up about are like… his hamster falling off the table and dying when he was 6. Or his emotions, he says something raw and quiet like, “I used to think no one really gave a shit about me.” late at night.

— The traumas, the childhood stories, the sexual things—he’s an open book.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

— Quick temper. Erik is the definition of “bite now, apologize later.” Not in an aggressive way, he’s more sarcastic and passive aggressive.

— He’s impulsive, reactive, and cursed with a sharp tongue. Snaps fast, especially when he feels embarrassed or cornered.

— But with you? Way more patient than anyone else. Still grumbles and rolls his eyes, but he reins it in when it counts.

— He hates making you upset. If he yells and sees your face drop, he’ll feel like shit for a week and apologize with a tattoo idea he’s been saving just for you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

— Weirdly good memory. Doesn’t look like he’s paying attention? He is.

— Remembers the name of your third-grade goldfish. Buys you that one brand of lip balm you casually mentioned liking six months ago.

— If you think he forgot something important, he probably didn’t—he just panicked about getting it wrong and stayed quiet.

— Will bring up something you said two months ago like it was yesterday: “Didn’t you say this place makes the best fries? Yeah, I listen. Shocking, I know.”

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

— That night you both sat on the roof in the cold, wrapped in one too-small blanket, drinking cheap beer and talking like nothing else existed.

— You said something dumb that made him laugh so hard he snorted. He pretended to be mad, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

— He thinks about it when things get dark. How you looked under the stars. How for once, everything felt okay.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— Crazy protective. Not in a possessive way, just a very “you’re mine and I will take a pipe wrench to the face for you” kind of way.

— He walks you to your car even when you say it’s fine. Sleeps closest to the door. Memorizes all your coworkers’ names just in case.

— As for being protected? Oh, he’ll squirm. He’s not used to being taken care of. But when you stand up for him or when you defend him? That’s how you unlock the softest, most fragile parts of Erik. He’ll never say it, but it means everything.

— Gets a bit annoyed if you’re too protective though. He doesn’t like being told what to do.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— He plays it cool, but he tries. Maybe too hard. Buys you weird presents like a dagger you said was “pretty” once.

— Dates are chaotic but memorable. Midnight fast food runs. Breaking into an abandoned amusement park “for the vibes.”

— He’ll never say “I wanted to make it special.” He’ll just say, “Figured we needed a night. Don’t make it weird.”

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— Avoids serious conversations until they explode. Picks fights just for shits and giggles.

— Smokes too much when he’s stressed. Gets self-destructive when he’s overwhelmed.

— Pushes people away just to see if they come back. It’s not pretty, and he knows it.

— His room is a warzone. Laundry chair, takeout boxes, mystery socks.

— Late-night impulsiveness. Might cut his own hair at 2 a.m. or get a bad tattoo just to “feel something.”

— Refuses to go to therapy. (Until you beg him.)

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

— Acts like he doesn’t care, but spends twenty minutes getting his hair “messy just right.”

— Obsessed with his piercings and tattoos. Will flex them in the mirror with you watching. “What? I look hot. Admit it.”

— Loves when you look at him. Makes him feel like he’s not a walking disaster.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— He wouldn’t say it out loud, but yeah, he’d feel hollow.

— If you left, he’d pretend he’s fine. Talk trash, make jokes, but inside? Crushed.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

— He absolutely collects weird little trinkets. Bottle caps, torn concert tickets, broken jewelry. Keeps them all in a box labeled “Don’t Touch.”

— Once gave you a rock he found because it “looked like your attitude.” You still have it. He still doesn’t admit he meant it romantically.

— Erik has a secret soft spot for old cartoons. Like 1930s black-and-white, weirdly disturbing stuff.

— Makes a shit ton of playlists for you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

— Fake people. He can smell it a mile away and it makes his skin crawl. He prefers someone blunt like himself.

— Overly tidy perfectionists. If you judge the mess in his room, he’ll judge your soul.

— He hates feeling censored. If he has to tiptoe around you, he won’t stick around. He wants something real, even if it’s messy.

— Looord, anyone who tells him to take out his piercings or cover his tattoos. Instant no.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

— Sleeps like the dead, sprawled out like a starfish. Always takes up too much space.

— Sometimes mumbles in his sleep. Has said “I’ll kill you” and “babe, five more minutes” in the same night.

— If you leave the bed, he’ll groggily wake up and mumble, “Where’d you go?”

[neerathebrightstar]

Prequel : “ Curse upon thy garden”

pairing: Hal Jordan x gn reader

Hanahaki disease trope with a sprinkle of yandere (for now)

Inspired by @acid-ixx series again&again so it will get so much worse before it gets better

Read until the end for the author’s note

It isn’t until Hal starts coughing up petals that he realises how truly fucked he is. Sitting in front of the toilet bowl, retching and choking on red, purple and pink flowers he doesn’t know the name of, Hal allows himself to mourn. He mourns for the love that he now is sure will never be reciprocated and he mourns himself. There is no need to go see a surgeon when Hal knows he won’t be able to do what’s necessary to cure the disease. After all, Hanahaki ends in two ways: death or the flowers have to stop growing. And because Hal knows there is no way his love will ever love him back, the only way to save his lungs from becoming an overgrown garden is the surgery. It’s a horrific thing, barbaric even. Instead of love and petals, after the procedure there is a clean slate. It rids you of any feelings for the object of your affection and the ability to ever feel anything for them again. Hal’s love is strong, just like his will, it borders on obsession, and ever growing need to own the object of his desires. In the end it doesn’t matter if Hal will die, he is not afraid of death, what scares him is losing you. To never feel the love that bleeds from his heart into his lungs, and grows into the beauty with thorns is to truly die. You are his life, the air he breathes and flowers he chokes on. To allow someone to tear them out of their fertile soil is to tear out his heart.

When Spooky first demanded Hal stay away from his city, the ring wielding hero hadn’t paid the request (order really) much thought. Gotham was still in Jordan’s sector, he was obliged to patrol in the Known Universe so it was not like Batman could keep him out of his nest. Hal didn’t particularly like the vigilante too much since, well always, and getting on his nerves was like a hobby to him. He was pretty sure that Batman lived in a cave anyway (because who the fuck was even Bruce Wayne?) so who did he think he was to lecture the Great Green Lantern how to do this job.

It was during one of the moments when Hal felt like making a nuisance out of himself that he flew to Gotham using the ring. The original plan was to find Batman, see him pop a blood vessel, then go back home satisfied, drink a few beers and sleep. The problem was that he couldn’t find Spooky. Or any of the masked vigilantes in bird themed costumes (ridiculous idea if you were to ask him). But he couldn’t just leave like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs. God forbid one of Batman’s kids whose veins were filled with whatever serrum Bats invented to make them nocturnal find out about it and taunt him with it. He would not be bullied by kids with rabies thank you very much.

Hal flies around Gotham a couple of times as Green Lantern and stops a few minor crimes just to really rub it in Bruce’s face. He feels like a rebellious teenager decorating alleys with his signature graffiti and it makes him giddy. He doesn’t engage in any bigger stuff regarding Gotham’s colourful gallery of rogues. That will really piss Batman off, and Hal understands why. It would be like saying that he can’t handle his mess, in his own city, so while Jordan likes to irritate Spooky he still respects him enough not to get in his way too much.

He spends an hour like that before he decides that the Big Bad Bat won’t show up after all. He turns around to return to his home when he sees them. They are sitting on a rooftop, in one of the darker parts of Gotham (and Hal isn’t talking about light only, he is pretty sure most of the attacks he stopped tonight were in this neighbourhood), dressed in loose and old pants and the ugliest Christmas jumper Hal has ever seen. Even from so far away (he can’t explain why it bothers him that he can’t touch them immediately, whenever he wants) Jordan knows they are getting ready to jump (it will kill them and the thought takes all of breath from his lungs). He can’t scare them so he makes the glow of his suit even brighter, to the point he really looks like a human green lantern and flows to meet them gently over the railing. Their eyes snap from the asfalt below when Hal drapes himself dramatically next to them. He smiles somewhere between cocky and gentle and wiggles his brows.

“Everything's all right there, sweetheart?”

When they finally face him completely, something in his chest clicks so loudly, Hal knows that half of Gotham heard him. Staring at him are the loveliest eyes he ever saw on any species he encountered in Galaxy. Tears stream along their face like the artist's carefully placed strokes of a brush. Few of the city’s misplaced lights shine on their cheeks like glitter. It only adds to the fairytale like picture and the tugging on his hearth increases.

“Green Lantern? What are you doing in Gotham?”

Oh god. Thousands of angels sing in that voice (your voice is scratchy from all the crying but he doesn’t hear that. Right now he can’t stop looking and the only thing he sees is perfection) and Hal feels honoured his ears were worthy enough to hear it. He feels the sudden urge to tuck them under his head and protect them from all the harm in this world and every other world out there.

“Business with Gotham’s own Dark Knight. But seems his lady doesn’t own to good of a leash for her guard dog cause I can’t find him anywhere”

Hal pretends not to see how their face falls at the mention of the former emo kids and the BDSM enthusiasts wet dream come true clad in his leather glory and focuses on the problem at hand. They were trying to jump.

“But the FreakTM can wait, his bedtime doesn’t start until the sun goes up. Plenty of time to catch him later. Mind if I sit with you?”

He feels proud of himself when they crack a smile at his joke and don’t jump down to crack their skull instead. They look around, like they are checking if he is really talking to them before they scooch a little and put their knees to their chest. They wrap their hands around them and it’s only now that Hal sees them shaking. The Gotham air is chilly when Jordan finally sits down next to them before conjuring a big, warm and glowing green blanket to wrap around their shoulders. Hal more than feels the breath that hitched in his companion’s chest. They seem so small now, so breakable and Hal thanks whatever deity watched over them today that he made it on time.

“Bad day huh?”

They take their sweet time to respond but he waits patiently, so unlike himself, made to always leap into action. But it’s important, he can’t fuck it up. They sit there together, watching the streets of the crime infested city until the Batsignal appears on the foggy grey night sky. The civilians don’t usually fear the Bat, he protects them as much as he protects the city, but the one next to him clearly flinched like they were just slapped. He doesn’t ask because they are beginning to choke on sobs. They clutch their jumper and to Hal’s horror, they start beating themselves just over their hearth. He quickly takes their hands between his and squeezes.

“Please don’t do that”

They try to take their hands from him and sob more loudly. Hal doesn’t let go so they sit like that for a few more minutes before their silent voice interrupts the crying.

“Can you please hold me?”

They sound embarrassed and Hal wants to strangle whoever made them feel like asking for comfort is something not available to them. He pulls them so close they are practically sitting in his lap and hugs them tightly. They latch on him instantly and Jordan starts to pet their hair with one hand, humming softly.

“As long as you wish for, sweetheart”

That night you fall asleep on the hero’s shoulder, captured in his arms. You wake up alone but safe in your own bed, still wrapped in the glowing blanket. It doesn’t disappear until you properly stand up. The apartment is cold as always and there is nothing that can be done about that. But you feel warmer at the memory of last night. Because that was a Green Lantern, a hero both on this planet and others, a founding member of the Justice League. It has been a long time since anyone willingly offered you comfort like that. Sure, when you lived in the manor Alfred and his mostly silent presence was there, but he never touched you openly like that. Like a father or an older brother concerned for your wellbeing. And to be important enough in the Lantern’s eyes that he took time out of his day and saved you from throwing yourself to a certain death? It was a freeing experience, it showed you that you matter. So what if you never saw him again? You will always remember his embrace, his sweet nickname for you but most importantly you will always remember that every other day you will get to live will be thanks to his kindness.

It was not the last time you ever saw Hal. After he suffered through the Batman’s angry speech about respecting each heroes rules in their city (what a hypocrite, Hal knew very well he had contingencies on all of them and regularly broke their established rules) and his threats to never show his ugly green glow there again, the only thing he could think about was you. Your pretty, shiny eyes and soft, heartbreaking smile. He had to see you again. Just for the peace of his mind to make sure you didn’t try to jump again. It also had an added benefit of regularly pissing off Spooky who was sure to get an aneurysm if he ever saw him flirting with a civilian in his city as a Green Lantern.

The next time he comes, he should bring something to eat with him. He saw your pathetic excuse of a kitchen so what better way to charm you than feed you? He couldn’t exactly ask you out to a proper restaurant like he normally would, not in a suit so takeout would have to do. He needs to catch your name this time. After all he has to make sure it will sound good with your future last name “Jordan”.

this work is a gift to a wonderful @acid-ixx who inspires me everyday to write. his series a&a changed me as a person and I recommend you read it. this work is inspired by his series and i plan on it being a multi chapter piece but i won’t promise any regular posting, my writing schedule is shit. Yael i love you for your hard work and writing so this was meant to be a birthday present for you but I didn’t manage to finish it on time and i still had to split it.

If anyone want to be tagged let me know <3

[starryeyedjanai]

bad boys do it better

rated: teen | @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: modern au tags: dating apps, innuendo, bad flirting read on ao3

✿

Eddie finally opens Tinder after downloading it in a fit of desperation.

He's tried everything but these stupid apps—bars and clubs and pottery classes and rock climbing—trying to find someone he can connect with.

But he's mostly found guys that string him along with whispered sweet nothings and half-promises they don't intend to follow through on.

So he makes his profile and then promptly fumbles and drops his phone because— no fucking way.

There's no way this is real life.

There's no fucking way the first guy to pop up is Steve fucking Harrington, his unfortunate and longest lasting crush in high school.

He picks up his phone and sees Steve's face staring back at him, unassuming, a bright, cheery smile on his face.

Steve, 28 2 miles away "Hope you like bad boys because I have it on dvd and vhs" Interests: baseball, basketball, live music, movies

He taps to get to the next photo and lets out a shaky breath—the shorts of what can only be his Halloween costume are so short, exposing hairy thighs that Eddie wants to sink his teeth into.

The next photo is a snapchat picture of him grinning wide, cradling what might be the world's ugliest dog, the text across the screen reading my nephew is so handsome 🤩🤩🤩.

The last is an obligatory shirtless mirror pic, not showing off washboard abs, but the soft, toned skin of his stomach.

He closes the app, sets his phone down, and breathes through his nose.

This can't be real, right? In what world would Steve be the first person in a sea of profiles in San Francisco of all places?

Eddie expected him to chase after Nancy Wheeler when she went to Boston, but he didn't stick around long enough in Hawkins to find out if they ever rekindled their will-they-won't-they relationship.

Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he found his match and just forgot to delete Tinder. Because there's just no way Eddie has this kind of luck.

He opens up Instagram and searches for Steve and finds him right away because they're probably still Facebook friends.

He scrolls through his profile and deflates a little, because all of the pictures on Tinder are from his Instagram. Which means it's probably much more likely that someone is catfishing using Steve's pictures.

Because the Steve from high school wasn't into men. And he's hot enough for someone to use his pictures to scam people or whatever.

He opens up Tinder again and his thumb is swiping right before he thinks about what he's doing.

It's a match!

Okay, now he knows it's a catfish. Or maybe it's a bot.

There's no world in which Steve Harrington would swipe right on him in the twenty minutes it's been since he created his account.

He types a message to "Steve" saying so are you a bot or just a catfish?

He doesn't get a response right away, so he clicks out of the messages, looking at profiles of what are hopefully actual people he can connect with.

His phone buzzes when the message from Steve comes in.

Hi3 Eddiems, cl!ck th3 linkin my proffile to . achat I am waitin9

He rolls his eyes and goes back to perusing profiles. It's not like he thought it was really Ste-

His phone pings with another message and he clicks back into the chat immediately.

That was a joke. There's not even a link in my profile

Eddie's heart beats a little faster, his fingers typing out a response.

So a catfish then?

Why do you think I'm a catfish?????

Because I know the guy in those pictures and there's no way hes into men. That guy was a jock extraordinaire in high school and very straight

You're awfully judgey for someone who was so anti-conformity in high school. Whos to say I haven't changed?

Or like, learned new things about myself?

Eddie's breath stutters in his throat.

Also you didn't really know me since we never talked.

Okay, I mean. It's pretty easy to guess that I was counterculture in high school by looking at me. So I'm still on the fence about the catfish thing

How about we meet up then? So you can see me in all my nearing-30 glory

And watch bad boys on dvd and vhs with you?

Dude, I am not inviting you to my house on the first date

That's a third date kind of thing

Oh yeah? Is it a back-to-back feature? We start with the vhs then move to dvd?

He can't believe he's entertaining this. A catfish wouldn't offer to meet up unless they thought Eddie wouldn't call their bluff. He kind of wants to see where this is going.

No see, we start with the dvd playing in the living room and then when we inevitably start being bad boys🥵 in the middle of the movie, we can pick it back up on vhs in my room later

To be clear, we stop the movie, right? I'm not sure bad boys has a soundtrack meant for the kind of activities we'd be doing

Oh for sure. I'd even put on my "let's get it on" playlist. As a treat.

Eddie can't help but grin. Even if this guy is a catfish, this is maybe the most fun he's had talking to someone in a long time.

Are you serious about meeting up?

Uh yeah, I can't have you thinking I'm a catfish forever

What's your favorite brewery?

Cellarmaker

Wanna do tomorrow afternoon at like 2 when it's not busy?

That sounds perfect

He isn't sure if it's really Steve or if he's going to be met with someone else or stood up, but at least he'll get to drown his sorrows if it doesn't work out.

Well—he's unsure until he gets the 'stharrington started following you' notification on Instagram a few minutes later.

He screams into his pillow so loud his neighbor thumps on the wall.

[rogueddie]

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."