The Dumpster (aka Masterlist)

MARVEL 

link // https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHUrAvKNF8s (collab w/ djcprod)

⭑ tom riddle.

observations [i] [ii] 18+

you've been going to hogwarts for four months, and find this whole school-wide obsession with tom riddle a little bit ridiculous, and a little bit contrived. surely not all the rumours are true... (11.4k words)

patience, please, and thank you 18+

you and tom have always sought to best one another in school. it doesn’t help that upon graduating, you work for opposing shops. (6.4k words)

your kitchen table

tom hates summer. fortunately, he loves you. (1.4k words)

for the love that used to be here 18+

you and tom are the only muggle-borns in slytherin, until one day he isn’t. (21.8k words)

sunlight parallel pseudostars

your reunion is long overdue for the small thing it should be, sacred for the dingy place it finds you, and most consequentially, entirely on purpose. (4.9k words)

life of the party 18+

when one game is ruined, another begins. (4.5k words)

⭑ long fics.

paper confines

horcrux magic, forced proximity, friends to enemies to something worse than lovers, lesbians (!) who are not background characters, ‘help my moral compass broke’, angst, heisting, celtic mythology. ongoing. (136k)

available on ao3 & wattpad.

grey caladrius 18+

triwizard tournament, university au, runes, slavic & greek mythology, worldbuilding, war, angst, eventual smut, unhinged characters, cultism, ‘help i didn’t have a moral compass in the first place and now i need one’, trauma & healing. new. (1.5k)

available on wattpad. (ao3 soon!)

⭑ draco malfoy.

made with love

it's winter, you’re sick, and draco is extremely rational a terrible, doting mess about it. (1.6k words)

leave me a request!

peppermintxparker/valar–m0rghulis

keepingupwiththeparkers’ masterlist

+Everything is fluff and written with a female reader unless indicated otherwise, e.g.:

Smut 🔥

Angst ⛈

No reader gender specified 👤

+ I only have ONE taglist, send me an ask to be added

+ I’m currently NOT taking requests

Keep reading

French music recs

Stromae - Belgian artist, clever lyrics and catchy music

Check out Papaoutai and Tous Les Mêmes

Mika - pop, has French songs as well as English

Check out Elle Me Dit and J’ai Pas Envie

Mozart l’opéra rock - a musical, but I like the songs enough to list it here

Check out Le bien qui fait mal and Tatoue-moi

Maître Gims - rap and pop, I don’t listen to him that much but he’s good

Check out J’me tire and  Est-ce que tu m'aimes?

Indila - pop, I’ve heard some of her songs a lot on the radio

Check out Dernière Danse and Tourner Dans Le Vide

Notre Dame de Paris - another musical, I love the sound of it

Check out Belle and Le Temps des Cathédrales

I might update this list later as I just listed these as they came to mind and I definitely missed a lot of popular artists. Feel free to add on!!

window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 

"How'd they get you?" you ask. 

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to. 

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself." 

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 

"Can I crash here?" 

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 

"What're you doing?" you ask. 

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines." 

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 

"You're tired of me," he says. 

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 

"I'd be tired of me." 

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 

"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 

"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 

source

alright my little ghouls and ghosts, this is my official masterlist for kinktober! it’s my first one, and i’m very excited to share these stories with you. please note, that because i’m me, it’s possible these may end up changing but i’ll try my best to stick to the plan!

most importantly, i’d just like to give a massive thank you to everyone who sent in ideas, and requests. i hope i brought your fantasies to life! xo

eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.

important disclaimer — all of these will contain explicit sexual content, as well as majority having dark themes. please heed every warning that is specified on each chapter as i am not responsible for your media consumption.

1. bootriding + the winter soldier

2. mirror sex + boyfriendsdad!andy

3. overstimulation + bestfriendsbrother!loki

4. dubious consent + bryce

5. double penetration + sambucky

6. spitroasting + wandanat

7. cum play + fwb!joaquin

8. mommy kink + milf!nat

9. asphyxiation + bodyguard!sam

10. exhibitionism + ex!ransom

11. punishment + criminal!curtis

12. dacryphilia + pornstar!thor & pornstar!erik

13. breeding + mob!steve

14. mutual masturbation + college!valkyrie

15. pegging + beefy!bucky

16. cockwarming + biker!steve

17. somnophilia + king!sam

18. dumbification + roomates!stucky

19. knife kink + mr. freezy

20. voyuerism + neighbour!lee

21. brat taming + sub!wanda

22. biting + werewolf!bucky

23. degradation + serialkiller!ari

24. gangbang + cult!mcu men

25. period sex + vampire!charles

26. possessiveness + stalker!nat

27. chasing + alpha!sam

28. tentacles + venom

29. corruption + demon!steve

30. sacrifice + coven!mcu women

31. consensual non consent + ghostface

Billy never got to apologize to Max for all the times he hurt her.

Billy never got to show Max the bruises, the fights, how he used his body as a shield and took all of her blows. Acted like his father's perfect target so he wouldn't hurt Max.

Billy never got to meet Elle, the teenage girl who saved his sanity and give him a purpose.

Billy never got to grow up, and find himself, find who he was outside of his own walls.

Billy never got to know what it's like, not being abused, he never got to recover from the trauma, he never got to see how good of a person he COULD have been.

Billy was robbed of so much potential, and given so much pain and rage. All he wanted was to be loved, understood, paid attention to.

It's a terrible thing what growing up with abuse can do to a person. Unfortunately, Billy figured out too late that he is not the monster his father wants him to be.

Max obviously cared about him so he must not have been abusive to her all the time.

Billy was no hero, but he could have been.

━ 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐓É

TO STEAM A LATTÉ by shipstiel | 1/1 chapters

RATINGS && TAGS: Teen and Up Audiences // alternate setting — modern setting + coffeeshop AU + college AU + fluff + denial!lance

SUMMARY

Lance works at a coffee shop and he likes his job. That is, until his new coworker arrives: actual human nightmare Keith Kogane.

(And if anyone asks Lance whether he’s attracted to said coworker, well that’s between him and his own fantasies, thank you very much).

OR: Lance and Keith fight constantly and honestly, Lance just really wants to punch Keith. Or make out with him aggressively. Whichever comes first.

EXCERPT

“I already told you, I can’t do mondays, and I’m not rearranging my entire schedule so that you can avoid the guy that you say you hate, but you actually have a huge gay crush on.”

Lance looks at them with a betrayed gasp.

“See? You can’t even deny it.”

“Keith’s hotness has nothing to do with this.”

MY COMMENTS

Jesus Christ, Lance can be dense at times, but it worked out for him so I guess I can’t criticize his technique too much. The entire fic is just so full of tension and the resolution was, well, interesting. It isn’t the longest fic, but holy shit, the tension was there. The build up was amazing and the sexual tension is so thick that it radiated off the screen and into the air all around me and even then i could cut it with a knife.