#Jesus Christ get your executives together

[aziraphales-library]

Hey there! Do you have any refs for fics involving a road trip (extra points if its aziracrow as Angel/demon and not an au altho aus are lovely too!!)

Hi! We have some road trip fics here, and I've got more now...

leave you faithless by midnightbotany (T)

As Aziraphale struggles with the demands of his new role as Supreme Archangel, a heartbroken Crowley embarks on a journey around the world hoping to stop Armageddon. Again.

Where The Furniture Used To Be by Magpie_BKK (T)

The Bentley has mysteriously brought Crowley back to central London, just as an old friend turns up at the bookshop. But not everything is as it appears, and Crowley finds himself on the run with an amnesiac angel, trying to unlock his memories along the way.

The Lost Apostle by miraworos (G)

After a long hiatus, Crowley badgers Aziraphale to go on a road trip with him. But it's more a quest than a road trip, and both Crowley and Aziraphale may be getting into more than they bargained for. Bentley POV.

Waterfall by duustbunny (E)

Two years after Aziraphale accepts the Metatron’s offer, Crowley is captured as he attempts to infiltrate Heaven and Aziraphale is tasked with executing public punishment. Instead, he lets the demon lead him on a quest to recover a lost item that can help them stop the end of the world once more. Because Heaven is not the boss of him anymore, and preventing the Apocalypse will never stop being his and Crowley’s job.

The Journey by ElderlySardine (M)

“Anthony J Crowley… Mayfair, London… Next of kin: Mr A Z Fell…” Crowley nodded. It wasn’t as if he had anyone else. “Emergency contact: also Mr Fell…” Crowley had almost stopped listening. “Relationship to applicant: husband…” “Husband?!” Crowley and Mrs Lowry spoke together as one, for the first and almost certainly the last time in their lives. “Husband.” Crowley recovered first, and fixed Mrs Lowry with a hard stare into which he infused just a little bit of demonic energy. “Is that a problem?” It was a problem. It was Aziraphale's harebrained plan, and it was clearly doomed to failure, as well as embarrassment and ignominy. But since when had Crowley been able to say no to the angel? It was only two weeks, and 3,850 miles. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

hurry back, please bring it back home to me by Percyjacksonfan3 (T)

“Why should I?” The demon interrupts cuttingly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear where your priorities lie and anything I say won’t make a bit of difference.” “That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale replies after a long hurt moment. “And you know it. Besides, you’re being stubborn. You’ll help me eventually.” Rage flashes over Crowley’s face. “You think so, do you?” Aziraphale juts his chin up stubbornly, ignoring the unpleasant feelings Crowley’s expression stirs in him. “Yes.” Aziraphale needs Crowley's help in saving humanity from the Second Coming and despite what happened between them he's determined to get it. After all, it's not only that he needs Crowley, but his plan also includes their car. As for the other matters between the two of them... well there's no reason those can't be sorted out along the way as well, is there? Or, a possible take on Series 3 that includes the Bentley, a resurrected Jesus Christ set on bringing about the End of Days, and an angel and a demon who are stupidly in love with each other but are both suffering from a lack of experience on how to actually deal with said emotions. Emphasis on the stupidly.

- Mod D

[cryptidnest]

The port Mafia is ADHD cause all its executives are disfunctional :-P

[anonymusbosch]

love to be employed and watch remarkable numbers of people in management or executive level positions be wildly incapable of things like "prioritization" or "foresight" or "organization" or "people skills" or "hiring women" or "having a backbone" or "firing people who are so bad they make other people quit"

[loveinhawkins]

Steve knows that it’s Eddie from the way the RV door sticks awkwardly before it opens, which makes him smile. The guy can break in and hotwire the thing, as smooth as you like, but then apparently turns into a klutz as soon as the pressure’s gone.

Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s inside at first, seems more focused on tying a few makeshift spears together with string so they don’t fall about the place. It’s only when he looks up, does a double take and says, amused, “Sorry, didn’t realise I was interrupting something,” that Steve remembers he isn’t exactly cutting a fine figure right now.

To put it bluntly, he’s currently hunched over, sat at the little table, eating canned frosting with a teaspoon.

“What are you even…?” Eddie sits down opposite him, peers closer and sees the label on the can. “Harrington,” he says, like someone reading out orders of execution, “that’s fucking gross.”

“Hey, I found it sealed in the cupboard, it’s not expired. And it’s chocolate, man,” Steve defends.

A pause. “Can I have some?”

Steve laughs. “Sure.”

He finds another teaspoon, moves the frosting so it rests in between them. Smiles when Eddie knocks their spoons together, like they’re sharing wine instead.

They sit in comfortable silence. Steve has the sudden thought that if it wasn’t for the impending everything, he could pretend like it’s a lazy Saturday, where they’re free to do harmless, juvenile things, like just watching movies all day. Like sharing frosting out of the can.

“God, you’re so unbothered by all this, aren’t you?” Eddie says around his spoon, which makes Steve suspect that perhaps their thoughts aren’t exactly aligned at the moment. “Steve Harrington. Mister Cool.”

He says it softly, a little like Robin had—and Jesus, Steve thinks, did everyone in school have such an idea of him?

“Unbothered, meaning?”

Eddie shrugs. “Alternate dimension. Real life monsters. Uh, I dunno, the potential end of the world? Take your pick, man.”

Steve thinks for a little while, scrapes the bottom of the can repeatedly even though they’ve already eaten it all.

He doesn’t know how to say that over the years, fear has become normal, a reassuring background noise. It’s when he doesn’t feel it that he’s really, truly scared shitless.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Steve says, “I think we all just got so used to it, that—”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel better,” Eddie interrupts with a huff of a laugh. “If I think about it for too long, I might actually cry for you all, Steve.”

“Nah, don’t do that,” Steve says lightly—though he thinks that a part of Eddie really means it. “It’s more like… like I’m a duck, y’know? Calm on the surface, but…” He drums on the table in demonstration. “Freaking out underneath.”

Eddie’s looking at him with a little smile Steve thinks he hasn’t quite seen before—almost like he’s charmed.

He wonders just how many smiles Eddie Munson has. Wants to have enough time to find out.

“And you’re like an upside down duck,” Steve says, matter-of-fact.

Eddie snorts—another smile, wide and bright. “Excuse me?”

“Like, you might think you’re freaking out on the surface, but underneath, when it comes down to it, you’ll be…” Steve moves his hand in a straight line, imitating a duck calmly gliding along.

Eddie shakes his head. “Think you’ve got too much faith in me.”

And sure, it’s said like it’s a joke, but Steve holds his gaze when he replies seriously, “No, I don’t think so.”

You think I’d trust Dustin with just anyone? I saw you pull him back from the edge of the lake. That’s all I need to know.

Eddie glances away almost like he can see Steve’s thoughts dancing in front of him, as if the honesty is too much to witness.

“Plus you’re, like, my guide for what’s a normal reaction to all of this shit. You’re good for us, man. Keeps us grounded.”

Eddie laughs again. “Christ, I’m the guide for what’s normal. God help us all.” He drops his spoon into the empty can with a clatter. “It’s getting late. We’d better, uh. Round up the troops.”

He stands up, shuffles out from the table.

And Steve finds himself standing, too, with the sudden fear that he’s watching a window close before him.

He reaches for Eddie’s wrist—just two fingers, barely a touch—and Eddie turns to him immediately.

“Hey, Eddie, you’re—you’re good with them, y’know? The kids.” Steve laughs quietly. “God, they’d be… scared far sooner without you. When you were messing around with Dustin, and… Jesus, it’s the most I’ve seen Max laugh in a… in a while.”

Eddie’s smile turns gentle. “Nah, man. Any fool could do that.”

“No,” Steve says.

No, don’t you get it? Only you could. We’re all… we’re better with you, happier with you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. Please fucking understand how important you are.

You matter.

Eddie’s eyes flicker across Steve’s face. Like he’s understood without Steve having to say a word.

“Careful there, Harrington,” he murmurs.

Steve’s suddenly aware that he still has one finger on Eddie’s wrist. “What?”

Eddie stares at him. Shrugs with one shoulder, but it’s slow. Thoughtful.

“Just thought I’d get ahead of you, in case…”

“In case?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, abruptly sounds a little breathless. “Could be the end of the world, right? And you’re…” He glances over at the frosting can, smirks slightly. “You’re kinda under the influence. Don’t want you saying anything you wouldn’t mean in any, uh, normal circumstances.”

Fuck normal. This is my normal.

“And what if I meant it?” Steve says.

Eddie swallows. Calm on the surface.

“If you’re sure,” Eddie says slowly, eyes never leaving Steve’s face. “Then… go ahead.”

Steve steps closer.

Kisses him.

Eddie’s mouth tastes sweet from the frosting. Steve can feel it when he laughs, can feel him shaking from where he’s leaning up against the edge of the table.

He pulls back. “You okay?”

Eddie’s smile is tremulous, like he’s one second away from crying.

“Freaking out,” he says, but he pulls Steve in for another kiss, so Steve knows he’s not referring to…

“Yeah,” Steve admits. “Yeah, me too.”

Eddie laughs breathily, and the sound is enough to finally drown out the background buzz of terror. He’s so close Steve can count every eyelash.

“You’d never know, Steve.”

“Think this—” A last kiss, pressed to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Think this is the most scared I’ve ever been.”

“Me too,” Eddie echoes.

And just before he pulls Steve along, just before he opens the RV door and calls for everyone, he leans in close, whispers against Steve’s lips:

“Worth it.”

[jj-one]

FIRST TIME’S A CHARM.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: sports au, football jock!boyfriend!han jisung x cheerleader!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, light angst (if you squint), reader is so in love with jisung it makes everyone sick, reader is a virgin, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, protected sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc.), typical nervousness of first time sex, cherry popping, multiple orgasms, spitting, dirty talk words: 5.1k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Feelings of melancholy plagued your heart this morning. You miss him. You want to touch him, talk to him, breathe the same air as him. Your boyfriend Han was your world. He hasn’t replied to your usual ‘good morning’ text yet and the waiting game was slowly eating you up. You have to get ready for cheer practice since tomorrow is game day but you were hoping that your boyfriend could walk you to the gymnasium. You dread going to practice sometimes but Han would always find a way to lift your spirits and make your mood instantly better.

“You need to give him some space y/n.. you know he’s busy, we can just walk together it’ll be fine!” Karina attempts to snap you into a reality check.

She was your roommate and also on your cheer team, she’s been one of your closest friends since you transferred to this school a few months ago.

“But he always walks with me! I’ll just wait for him to reply, what if he texts me while we’re walking there and then he-“

“Jesus Christ y/n, you should hear yourself talk the way you go on and on about this boy! Don’t you think you’re a little too obsessed?” Karina retorts, “Let’s get a move on, we don’t need to be late to practice for the third time in a row!”

Grabbing your arm in the process, Karina heads out the door with you to get going. You wanted to whine and complain some more but you decided to let it go since you don’t want to annoy your friend with anymore talk of your boyfriend. You could talk about him all day long, you never get sick of being around him, he’s just always so busy with football and other things that it’s hard to see him sometimes. Since the gym you were practicing at was near the football field, you’d hope to eventually run into him later.

Your boyfriend did ultimately text you back but not until your cheer practice was over. You kept messing up the routine and Mrs. Park, your coach was getting irritated by your lack of coordination.

“Y/n, what’s with you today?! I know you can do way better than this!” She snaps in front of everyone, your whole team was looking at you and the embarrassment fully sunk in.

You didn’t have much to say other than a simple “I’m sorry” and “I’ll try harder”, it was your fault that you let your inner thoughts cloud your ability of performing. You gave yourself a couple minutes to recuperate and stretch to join the team again, you couldn’t let them down since the stunt you had to do needed to be executed perfectly.

After cheer practice you read the texts Han sent you:

‘Heyyy babe, so sorry for the late reply :( I’ve been practicing all morning and didn’t get a chance to check my phone!’

‘I just finished, wanna meet in a bit? I’m with Chan and Changbin rn’

You were now grinning ear to ear from his reply, you’ve been waiting all day to see him. It didn’t take long for you to respond back to him enthusiastically.

‘Yes! Where are you??’

‘Still on the field but at the bleachers, meet me there’

‘Ok, coming now!!’

‘See you in a few ;)’

With almost lightning speed you make a dash for the locker rooms and changed out of your cheer clothes to go find your boyfriend. Karina wanted to tag along since she secretly has a crush on Changbin but doesn’t quite want to admit it just yet. Making your way to the football field, you see some figures in the distance sitting on the bleachers; presuming to be your boyfriend and his two friends. You picked up your pace practically sprinting at this point to go hug your boyfriend who was still in mid-conversation with Chan and Changbin. You didn’t even acknowledge or say hi to either of them, only focusing on the man in front of you now. You’ve been craving to see him all day and finally being able to hug him made the sadness you felt this morning dissipate.

“How’s my pretty princess feeling today?” Han says, still having you wrapped tight in a bear hug. His fingers stroked your hair as he felt you against him, words couldn’t describe how happy you were in this moment.

“I’m okay now that I’m with you!” You exclaim, nuzzling your chin into his broad shoulder.

Everytime he hugged or held you, it felt like the warmest place you could be. Nothing compared to his embrace, it electrified you in so many ways that couldn’t be spoken into words.

“Ugh! Could you guys get a damn room already? I’m sick of seeing you act all lovey dovey, makes me depressed that I’m still single!” Changbin teases the both of you. You know he was only joking but it made you want to be even more of a nuisance.

“Then turn around and look the other way, we’re not going anywhere!” Han fires back, now bringing his face towards you to kiss him. He plants his lips on yours and gives you a soft kiss, delighting you with the taste of his minty flavored chapstick.

“Mmm… that flavor tastes good Hannie, could kiss your lips all day!” You go back in for another kiss, completely forgetting that Chan, Changbin, and Karina were right there watching this whole thing go down.

“Alright, enough!” Chan interrupts you and your boyfriends almost near make-out sesh with a reminder of previous plans. “Are we still going back to my place for movie night? I didn’t buy popcorn and snacks for no reason!”

“Ah shit, I totally forgot about movie night…” Han face palms from the lack of remembrance.

“Can I join?!” You chime in, hoping that Chan will allow you in the group so you can spend more time with Han.

“Could I come too?” Karina asks, sitting next to Chan trying her best not to make eye contact with Changbin.

“Yeah sure, the more the merrier I guess!” He shrugs his shoulders.

You were glad Chan let the both of you come along since you didn’t know him that well, you only talked to him on a few different occasions but each time he seemed pretty chill. He was the football quarterback and was loved by pretty much the entire university, he was practically the leader of the football team and looked after everyone. Your boyfriend was also a very popular guy and was well-liked by all his pupils, he was a really good defense and took his athletic skills seriously. You were so proud of your boyfriend and everything that he’s accomplished so far.

“Alright, let’s get going shall we? My dorms not that far from here, should only be a 10 minute walk!” Chan says while standing up.

Everyone gets up from the bleachers to start heading in the direction of the dorms and Han takes your hand in his.

“You cold babe?” Han asks while walking, he sees you shivering a bit from the sudden cool breeze of the wind.

You were wearing a short sleeve t-shirt which probably wasn’t the best idea but you were rushing this morning. You simply nod your head to his ask, you could feel the goosebumps rising on your delicate skin.

“Don’t worry, here you go darling.” Han quickly takes the letterman varsity jacket off his body to bring onto yours. The jacket weighs you down a bit and it was completely drowning you but you didn’t care.

“You look so adorable in my jacket babe, always look so cute wearing my things.” He compliments you while holding your hand tighter.

You could smell Han’s scent on the fabric, everything about him felt like home to you. You’ve been dating for 4 months now, you transferred to this new university thinking you wouldn’t make any friends at all. As soon as you became a cheerleader Han noticed you straight away, he asked a few of the girls about you but you were new so they didn’t know much. He wanted to get to know you more so he went in to shoot his shot and ended up being successful, now you’re both dating and are essentially the school’s power couple. The most popular jock dating the new pretty cheerleader was the perfect recipe to get everyone around the school talking.

“We’re here guys!” Chan says while coming to a stop in front of the dormitory.

He opens the door to lead the way for you all and Han has his arms wrapped behind you plastering small kisses to your cheek. You giggle as you walk inside to see more people sitting on the couch. It was some more members from the football team who joined for movie night but you and Han weren’t actually planning to watch movies with the rest of them.

“Let’s go somewhere else, yeah?” Han whispers in your ear, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

You agree to his ask and Han tells everyone that you’ll both be back before the movie starts getting good. Chan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the fact you both casually go into his room, he adds one last piece of advice, “make sure to use protection guys!”

Han doesn’t comment back at that, only reacting with a chuckle and heading towards the bedroom.

Chan’s room was your typical early twenties, frat-boy style living quarters. Clothes spread all on the floor, a couple posters adorned the walls, and the bed was unmade with a few textbooks on top. It was everything you’d imagine it would be, nothing in the slightest bit romantic.

“Wow, what a lovely choice to make our grand escape!” You said sarcastically, looking around at the tornado of a room it was.

“Hey, mine is way worse and you don’t even complain!” Han retorts, throwing the textbooks off the bed.

“That’s because I clean your room every time I come over!”

You sat on the bed with Han beside you, he snaked his arm over to wrap you into another tight hug. You feel the hardness of his chest against you and the sounds of his heartbeat produced butterflies in your stomach. You’ve been waiting to be alone with your boyfriend all day and now that the time has come you can’t keep your lips off him. You brought your face closer to his and sealed his lips to yours, his short brown locks tickled your forehead in the process.

You’ve been thinking about the next big step in your relationship— sex. Sex was what built the foundation of (most) relationships, it only proved how much you love your partner deeply. You wanted to give Han your everything, you’ve never wanted to do something more in your life. As you slowly break away from the kiss, you make sincere eye contact with your boyfriend, his eyes shown nothing but endearment for you.

“So I’ve been thinking about stuff lately…” you trailed your eyes away for a second, not feeling so confident in yourself anymore.

“Thinking about what?” He asks attentively, his eyes were still glued onto you, you could feel the intensity of his stare.

You had either two options: tell him how you really feel and what you actually want or you can save this for another time. You went with the latter and chose to keep it to yourself.

“Never mind… I’ll tell you later maybe, or another time.”

This doesn’t sit too well with Han. He likes when you’re open with him, honesty has always been a huge thing for him and when you act reclusive towards him he gets worried.

“No babe, just tell me. I promise I won’t judge you— I never do! I just want you to feel comfortable and be able to share anything with me.” His hand rubbed your thigh gently which made you feel more at ease and much calmer.

“I think I’m ready to take the next step with you.”

“Next step?” Han replies with confusion, “You mean as in like getting married? I think we’re a bit too young for that right no-“

“No Ji, I meant like I’m ready to have sex!” You finally admit, the look on his face became utterly priceless.

“Oh— really? What made you decide that?” He wonders curiously.

He knew for a long time that he was ready to have sex with you but just never mentioned it until you gave him the green light. He’s never pressured you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, make-out sessions with him would get super hot and heavy sometimes but that still didn’t stop him from not pushing your boundaries. He knew you were a virgin and that it would take time for you to make a decision as the relationship progresses.

“I just love you so fucking much Ji, I wanna give you my whole body, want you to be my first.” You bring your hand to his, moving it to your breasts for him to feel you.

His hand squeezes your boob gently, causing you to gasp at the light action. He cups his whole hand around it and juggles it in his palm, smiling at your beauty.

“You have the most perfect tits.” Han says in almost a whisper, still admiring your presence.

Both of his hands now playing with your boobs as he massages them through your t-shirt, you couldn’t help but go back and kiss his soft lips. The kiss grew more passionate as time went on, you couldn’t stop kissing those precious lips of his, you wanted your face attached to his 24/7. You got on top of him now, tangling your fingers through his luscious hair whilst your tongues glide against each other. He removed one of his hands from your breast to go grab your ass, squeezing your left cheek firmly.

“Lay on your back princess” Han says, instructing you as you lye back down on the bed. You aren’t sure what he has in mind but it can’t be anything innocent.

“What do you want to do to me?” You ask, pressing your thighs together to feel something.

“I want to make you feel really good…” He continues in a sultry tone, “I’m going to make you feel so amazing baby.”

His mouth goes back onto yours, kissing almost roughly this time. Something was taking over your boyfriend and it was turning you on incredibly. He plastered a few more wet kisses to your chin and neck, leaving trails of his glistening saliva all over you. Not a doubt was going through your mind, just undying love and devotion to your boyfriend.

“I love you so much y/n, you know that?” Han says reassuringly, you know he loves you but hearing it still made your heart flutter every time.

“I love you so much Hannie!” You probably loved him more than yourself at this point.

His hands roamed your half naked body once he rid you of your t-shirt and sports bra. His soft, tender touch was enough to drive you crazy and he’s barely done anything yet. You held your breath as his fingers danced across your skin, your brain was completely fuzzy and only filled with desire. You tugged at the end of his shirt so he could take it off and he obliged, pulling it from the top and lifting it over his head. You get a full clear view of body, that beautiful body of his, you wonder how a man can be shaped so gracefully. He had the most broad shoulders, chiselled abs and muscles, but his waist was so pretty and tiny. It didn’t make sense how one could be built such a way but he was perfect, his physique truly mesmerized you.

You go in to feel his muscles, his biceps were absolutely to die for, every time he flexed you swear you could hear your kitty purring down there. He was just so hot, you needed to taste each and every inch of him.

“Want you so bad…” you trace the lines of body, fully enamored by your gorgeous boyfriend.

“I’m all yours babe.”

Han lazily brung his hand to the waistband of your pants, fumbling with the button to take them off but was struggling a bit.

“Here, let me help you.” You guide him in the right direction and he successfully unbuttons them.

Once your pants are off he slides your underwear down past your knees, his face lights up at the sight beneath him. You were nervous but didn’t want to tell him that incase he stops, feeling a lump in your throat now forming.

“Let me know if you want me to stop at anytime.” You loved that he was always making sure you were 100% okay with everything he did.

You nod and let him continue doing his thing, he captures his lips with yours one more time before a hand creeps up your inner thigh. His fingers lightly brush your folds and you shudder from the sensitivity. He smirks into the kiss as he presses a single digit against it, gathering your slick nicely.

“Your pussy feels so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you darling.” Han says after parting from the kiss.

His finger glides between your wet folds, feeling your warm juices gush onto him. He makes a V shape with his fingers to spread you open now, getting a better look at your heat. He licks his lips at the sight, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of you. He inches his head closer to your core and spits on it, watching the saliva run down as he licks a long, slow stripe to your cunt.

His mouth becomes suctioned to your clit as he runs his tongue all over it, slobbering against you whilst holding your hips in place.

“Fuck! So good, so good, so good…” you couldn’t stop moaning, the pleasure was just hitting you all at once.

Your eyes were about to roll to the back of your head and your legs were shaking from Han’s insane pussy eating skills. You felt your chest cave in from all the intense pleasure and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, you were in for hell of a treat. One of his digits entered you, now fingerfucking you. You elicit another moan for him as his tongue picks up a quicker pace, his tongue flicks your nub viciously. His finger slips in and out slowly and adds another digit to make you gasp louder. The feeling of your boyfriend stretching you out for him was amazing, you felt your release coming by the second.

“I- I feel weird Ji..” you try to explain how you feel right now but you just can’t describe it. It felt as though you had to pee but you know you didn’t actually need to.

“It’s okay princess, it’s normal. Trust me, just let go. I promise you’ll feel so much better after baby.” He stopped what he was doing for a moment to encourage you.

His words made you instantly let go, you whimpered from the feeling of his mouth on your clit again. You rocked your hips forward to grind against him while he ate you out, playing with his hair and slightly pulling it once you felt yourself cumming. Your hips shook rapidly around him, his eye contact never broke off with you and it made you lose your mind. You mumble under your breath, trying your best to contain your orgasm but everything came crashing down violently. Han could taste your sweet essence on his tongue as he lapped up all your juices, not letting any of you go to waste. He kept himself buried between your shaky legs and pulled his fingers out, leaving you with an empty feeling.

“You ready for my cock babe?” He finally lifts his head up from your dripping cunt, his face fully soaked from the action he just performed.

“Yes, need you so bad Ji.. want you to pop my cherry.”

You looked at him with the most seductive eyes, he bit down his lip at what you just said. You know exactly how to make him feel the most special, he was special to you though, this whole moment meant everything to you.

“I’ll be gentle with you princess, I’ll try and make this as painless as possible for you.” He kisses your forehead and captures your lips in his.

He gets up momentarily to go find a condom in one of Chan’s drawers and quickly comes back. He undoes his pants to pull them off along with his boxers, opening the wrapper with his teeth and pulling the condom out to slide it on.

“I don’t usually like condoms,” Han explains “but since this is our first time I don’t want to scare you.”

You giggle at that comment, you don’t know the first thing about sex and all of this is so new to you. You’re just glad you have an experienced boyfriend that can help make this easier for you, it made you feel a lot less awkward.

“I guess I’ll have to get on birth control soon then?” You were willing to do anything for him at this point.

“It’s your body y/n, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You make your own choices.”

It was sweet how even right now he’s only thinking about how you feel, he really does care so much about you. Han repositioned himself to be between your legs again, his cock was now pressed along your folds. He gives you another kiss before asking one last time,

“You ready to do this?”

“Yes! Please hurry, I’m getting impatient!” You whine, wanting to finally feel what it’s like to take dick.

“Okay, okay, I’m just making sure you really want to do this!”

He rubs his cock against you, sliding it up and down to collect more of your wetness. You bite down on your lip, waiting for the real moment to transpire. His hand rests on the end of his cock, guiding it to your entrance, he prods your hole gently. A rush of pain inflicts your body from the feeling of just the tip stretching you, you could only close your eyes at the sensation.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you at all.” Han continues pushing himself in.

The more he inched inside you, the more painful it became. It felt as though your whole body was on fire, everything felt so strange to you. You endured the pain in hopes of it becoming better soon, you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend. You feel the size of his cock growing in you, the constant throbbing was making you dizzy. You held onto him tightly, not wanting to let ever go of him. You clench around him as he attempts to fully fit his entire cock but you wince at only half of him inside you.

“Fuck, you alright baby? Did I hurt you?” He studies you with concern, stopping immediately to gauge your body language.

“You’re so fucking tight, even though you’re soaking wet I can still barely fit my cock inside.”

Your face turns red as a tomato, you don’t know what to say and you’re getting too flustered.

“Awe, is my little princess feeling nervous? I told you it’s okay, I’ll be here with you every step of the way, I got you.”

He holds your hand in his, tentatively caressing the inside of your palm, he brings your hand up to kiss it and gave you a warm smile. He continues sliding more of his cock in and is eventually able to get most of himself settled. Your mouth is wide open once he begins slowly thrusting in you. The pain was starting to go away now, just slightly. You focus on the feeling of his length in you, you try to relax your muscles the best way you could. You feel so full, so stuffed, his cock fully immersed in your sweet cunt.

“You feel so good around me princess, just wanna fuck your tight pussy all night long..” he groans while picking up his pace, the discomfort comes back to you now, you wriggle around to make the burning sensation go away.

“Is it supposed to feel like this Ji?” You croak, trying your best to be good for him.

You know that Han would never judge you but you still felt insecure about your performance in the bedroom.

“It’s only going to hurt for a little bit, just keep thinking about me darling, think only thoughts of me.”

You can feel a knot in your stomach form now, his cock slamming into you deeply was making you see stars. You gnaw at his neck to bite down softly, you couldn’t hold in your emotions anymore. The pain was now fully gone again, the intense pleasure washing over you like a tsunami. You kept your eyes tightly shut to feel all of him, focusing on what he told you when he said to think only thoughts of him.

“Your cock feels good Ji, I love how feel inside me!” You cry out to him, arching your back against the bed.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, it all felt too good to be real. He increases his rhythm as he thrusts into you, fucking into your little virgin cunt harder. Your pussy twitches around his cock, you feel that need to pee like when he was eating you out.

“I- I think I’m gonna… cumming…” you could barely get a coherent sentence out. All you could do was continue digging your nails in his back and moan out his name.

“You gonna cum for me princess? Do it. Want us to cum together for our first time.” Han throws his head back as he keeps fucking you. He was bucking his hips in a sloppier motion now, indicating that he was getting close like you. It only took a few more pumps of his cock to get you to form a large ‘O’ with your mouth, your jaw stayed locked in place. Your walls contract around his thick cock and you gasped for air as you lose your breath.

“Ah, fuck y/n!” Han almost says with a growl, his chest feels heavy as he releases his load into the condom.

He continues thrusting slowly into you while gently massaging your breasts. You let go and feel your second orgasm approach, feeling waves of ecstasy throughout your whole body. You were both heavily panting, staring at each other with nothing but complete passion. Han collapses onto you, his sticky and sweaty body rested on yours. His cock was still buried in your cunt, you didn’t want this moment to ever be over.

“So how would you rate your first time?” Han asks while propping his head up, “on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“I’d say a 100/10, I’ll remember this day forever.”

You snuggle up against him, completely forgetting that you had your first time with Han in Chan’s bedroom.

“Well… maybe it could’ve been better if we did this in our rooms.”

“I agree, but hey there’s always next time!” Han finally pulls out of you and notices tiny droplets of blood on the condom.

“Oh my god babe, I popped your cherry!”

You were shocked that even happened since you didn’t feel anything inside you tearing, guess it was a myth that you could feel your cherry pop. Han looked so stoked by this discovery and you wish you could engrain the look on his face in your brain. You just giggle at his actions and give him another chaste kiss, cuddling with him and forgetting the rest of the world around you.

“I think we should head back out soon, they’re probably thinking what the hell we’ve been doing in here for so long.” Han gets up from the bed to go and put his clothes back on.

“I hope we weren’t too loud!” You say, grabbing your clothes to get changed too.

“If they heard us don’t worry about it, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They’ll probably congratulate me by how much noise you were making!”

You blush once again by what he said, you can’t believe you just lost your virginity, you don’t feel any different physically but you feel way closer to your boyfriend than ever before. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have such a loving, healthy, and supportive relationship. Han Jisung really was the light of your life.

Coming out of Chan’s room felt the walk of shame. You couldn’t face any of his friends or Karina in the living room, they all instantly turned their heads to face you. Changbin started clapping loudly and everyone else followed suit after, you knew this was going to be embarrassing but this just felt like pure torture.

“Congratulations bro! It was about time you finally both got some!” Han’s friend/teammate Minho shouts.

Your biggest fear came true, everyone heard absolutely everything.

“Did you guys really have to fuck in my bed though? I just washed those sheets last week!” Chan exclaimed, giving him the evil eye.

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell! Whatever happened in that room stays in that room.” Han brings his hand to his lips to make it look like he sealed them.

All the guys keep teasing him and you couldn’t stop blushing, maybe you should’ve waited to have sex in one of your dorms since Chan will probably never let him live this one down.

“You missed the movie anyway, might as well just leave and go for round 2!” Chan jokes.

“That actually doesn’t seem like a bad idea… thanks. Let’s go y/n!” Han links your arm around his and speed walks out the door.

Now that you were no longer a virgin, it didn’t feel all that odd to you as you thought it would be. It actually felt nice knowing you lost it to someone you love so much, someone you care so deeply out. It may not have been in the most romantic atmosphere which you’ve always pictured losing your virginity in a much better setting. However, you’ll cherish this special day with Han because even if it wasn’t the ideal scenery you had in mind, it was still a reminder that you had such a strong, beautiful connection with your lover.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Oh no. Sir I believe I'm going to need you to explain that Dragon Age 2 opinion, that is a BLAZING hot take

I really don't think it is. Although of course all of this is personal opinion, not some sort of divine proclamation on high about which video games people are allowed to prefer, so take please it in the spirit it is offered.

Origins is a worldbuilding walking tour as much about explaining its own in-universe lore and fantasy history as it is about either its characters or the actual story that is happening in the game. It's a cool world! With some great lore! But also it is built entirely around Generic Fantasy Plot Structure #1 and never particularly seems interested in innovating, or surprising the player. On top of which, a lot of its setting and lore is pretty weakly sketched and doesn't really get developed into something either visually or narratively compelling until it gets built out in later games.

And while Inquisition has some genuinely fantastic characters, everything else about the game suffers very badly from the plague of BioWare Magic™, i.e. the production was an absolute mess up until the last minute when five hundred extremely overworked and underpaid creative geniuses somehow managed to wring a functional experience out of the trainwreck. It was made with fucking Frostbite of all things, jesus christ, it's holding together with spit and duct tape.

Now, Dragon Age 2 shares a bunch of the problems of Origins and Inquisition. It too bears the hallmarks of "our executives couldn't plan a healthy game production cycle if their lives depended on it" with a lot of unfinished content, half-assed sidequests and a truly frustrating over-reliance on a combat system that isn't half as engaging to use as it needed to be.

But Dragon Age 2 also has something neither of its siblings could ever even hope to match: an actual compelling protagonist.

Like, listen, I know people adore their headcanons about their Wardens and Inquisitors, and it has made for some truly amazing fanworks, but Hawke is literally the only actual character out of all of them. Hawke has conflicts, problems, needs and drives that actually inform and push the story forward, they have a family and a history and a reason to give a sh** about the central conflict of the narrative.

In Origins and Inquisition both, your character becomes the main character of the story entirely because of fate and random chance. You are the Chosen One and you are the only one who can Save The World because you're the last of the super special elite fantasy Hero Squad, or because you got some green magic stuck in your hand by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because the character is a complete blank slate onto which the player is expected to project themselves, random chance and circumstance are the only tools the plot can use to position them as main characters. There is no character to drive them to it.

In Dragon Age 2, Hawke becomes the champion because they're trying to build a new life for their family in Kirkwall, and end up embroiled in the chaos and politics that befall the city as a natural consequence of living in it and dealing with the conditions of it. Hawke and their family's needs and wants drive their actions, and push them to engage in endeavors that influence the course of history. They have agency (in the conceit of the narrative, at least) over how their life turns out, they make choices that have consequences, rather than being dictated into the position of Main Character by a literal looming apocalypse that permits no other course of action.

And I'm not about to sit here and claim that Dragon Age 2's story is perfect or that every character is a masterpiece or that every plotline is amazing. No, there's plenty of scuff and jank and things that have aged poorly and unresolved plot threads and all the rest of it.

And I am definitely not forgetting the godsdamned DLC where BioWare threw it all overboard by inventing a Special Bloodline Plot where oops it turns out Hawke actually IS a special chosen one specially chosen by a special fate to have a special role in Saving The World because they're special because of fate and destiny and blah blah, I still think that was phenomenally stupid (especially when Corypheus wasn't even Hawke's goddamn main villain to deal with what was any of this supposed to add to their character ffs BioWare)

But even with all its problems, the simple fact that Hawke is a character you can give a shit about independent of your own projection as a player - the fact that Hawke isn't just an empty bland blank slate with no personality, no traits, no wants or needs or drives - that has made Dragon Age 2 infinitely more memorable to me than either Origins and Inquisition. I think about it to this day. I think about Hawke to this day. I care about what happens to the character in a way that I just simply could never bring myself to do with either my Wardens or my Inquisitors.

[luvnami]

i genuinely don't know what overcame me when i wrote this. but here, have modern!au sanemi baking with reader. hopefully you think it's funny, because i'll feel less braindead

baking together is not romantic. the idea itself is cute. execution of said idea, however, leaves much to be desired. 

“sanemi,” you begin, because names are always a good place to start, “this tastes like ass.”

before you is a comically flat loaf of bread. the crumb is incredibly dense (if it can even be called a crumb at all), the crust is as hard as a rock, and you’re pretty sure the yeast packet you used was expired.

you don’t know why you thought that baking bread was an easy process, considering that both you and shinazugawa are amateur bakers. you know how to cook, sure. baking, on the other hand, comparatively seems like rocket science. 

shinazugawa stares at the fruit of his labour on the kitchen counter. he raps his knuckles on the crust once, then twice. it sounds like he’s knocking on a brick. 

“jesus fucking christ,” he mutters. 

his arms are sore from kneading the dough. you had quickly grown tired of it, learning that reaching that perfect ‘gluten window’ was harder than it seemed, so you left it to your boyfriend with his big, strong biceps. surely all those hours in the gym must amount to something, right? it also gave you an excuse to gawk at him, in your extra pink apron and his forearms flexing with each knead. 

your apartment’s kitchen is now littered with baking utensils. you’ll find flour in the strangest places for the next two months, but that’s a problem for future you to deal with.

“well, that was a bust. what do we do with this?” you sigh, crossing your arms. 

shinazugawa sucks on his teeth. he was planning to make something edible for dinner out of the bread, but that’s clearly out of the question now. 

“fuck this. we’re getting takeout. we can feed the bread to, i don’t know, the pigeons at the park.”

“the pigeons? what if they choke and die! babe, this isn’t even bread. it’s an abomination.”

“fuck the pigeons.”

you gawk at shinazugawa. he’s serious. he’s going to feed the pigeons your failed gluten creation and newsflash: you’re getting arrested for killing the pigeon population at your local park. it’s a life sentence. you’ll never make it out alive. even if you do, the pigeons will send their strongest army to peck you to death. 

“babe! the pigeons! you can’t just say that!” you cry out. 

you lunge at shinazugawa and start weakly beating at his chest. he snorts. okay, maybe don’t fuck the pigeons. he catches you and squeezes you tight against him, ignoring your appeals to him to maybe care about the birds a bit more (he could give less of a fuck about them, though. damned things had a knack for assaulting him for his snacks). 

you’re both covered in flour, wearing matching aprons, and you’re all pressed up against him. next time, maybe you’ll start with cookies first. shinazugawa makes a mental note of that. 

“c’mon, we’ll order your favourite.”

your eyes sparkle. you momentarily forget about the pigeons. 

“really?”

shinazugawa melts a little when you look up at him, eyes wide and expectant. how can he say no? thank god for failed bread and stray birds. 

he kisses your forehead.

“of course.”

[middlingmay]

Marge is Gale's Beard AU

I don't know what happened, but this was supposed to be a funny cute little scene of Bucky stumbling across Marge getting a little frisky with another guy, not knowing she's not actually Gale's girlfriend, and promptly losing his shit. Like 1K words, max

BUT OVER 6000 WORDS LATER AND HERE WE ARE.

I need to be stopped, jesus fucking christ.

Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: violence, blood. Also period-typical attitudes towards monogamy.

Also, John doesn't look to good for part of this fic, but he is genuinely apologetic, and comes out the other side the John we all know and love. He's just going through some things!

Read under the cut!

Ostensibly, this little get together was a send off for Bucky who was being shipped off to Thorpe Abbotts in England thanks to his new and entirely unwanted position as Air Executive. But it was also a chance for the rest of the fellas to enjoy one more night of fun and frivolity with their loved ones before they left the States in a few weeks, some of them for the very first time. Maybe some of them for the last.

And for Buck, that meant none other than Marge.

They had been friends since they were kids. She was the first and remained the only girl he had ever brought home to his mother, and even father was on his best behaviour whenever she was around. Such was the power of Marjorie Spencer.

She was also the first and only girl he had ever kissed. They were teenagers, and even if Gale wasn’t as half-wild as his classmates about all the pretty girls, he was still a hormonal boy and one night, when he walked her home, he took her little face in his big hands and kissed her.

She’d pulled back frowning. “Gale. I don’t have brothers, but if I did I reckon that’s what it’d feel like to kiss ‘em.”

She wasn’t wrong. He’d heard the nasty locker room talk about boys sporting half a woody just at kissin’ a girl, and Gale hadn’t felt so much as a flicker.

Then, some while later, he’d felt the full fury of those teenage hormones when James ‘Jett’ Granger, school football star, had bowled him over and landed on top of him on the floor with a thud.

Jett had laughed and apologised and hauled Gale, who was not dainty by any stretch of the imagination, up like he was nothing with an apology on his lips. Like he hadn’t just upended Gale’s entire world.

When he told Marge, she’d cackled and leered like a locker room boy and said, “Did you…” and stuck her tongue between her teeth.

Gale spluttered and coughed on his spit and his blood pounded in his ears. But he couldn’t deny it, even as he scolded, “Marjorie Spencer!”

But once she got over her glee and teasing, she saw Gale work his lip like a well done steak and softened. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you.”

Gale scoffed. “We both know you’re the only one round here who thinks like that.”

Even Marge couldn’t stubborn her way out of that cold hard fact.

“Alright then,” she said with a set to her jaw. “Then you’ll be my fella, far as anyone knows. Least until you find one of your own.”

Gale’s heart flooded his body with warmth and he must have looked at Marge like she was a saint. “I can’t do that, Marge. What if you find a guy you really want to be your fella?”

But Marge looked highly sceptical. “Round here? You’re all I got.”

He smiled at the sentiment but he still wore worry on his brow and Marge darted forward to kiss at least a bit of it away. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

And they never had. Right up until Gale enlisted and was due to be shipped off to basic training, Marge kept assuring him every boy that came around was a knucklehead, and as little as Gale even let himself do so much as look, he couldn’t say he disagreed with her.

The night before he left, after an awkward near silent dinner with his folks that his mother had insisted on, he and Marge had laid a blanket out on an empty field and looked at the starts.

“I still can’t believe you’re going,” she said, voice thick.

Gale couldn’t say ‘sorry’, couldn’t say he wished he wasn’t going, because he wasn’t no liar. He’d wanted to be a pilot since he was a boy and he couldn’t wait to get started.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy.” But that there, that was the truth.

Marge snorted, true and ugly. “Yeah, right. You’re going to be surrounded by all the cute boys and I’m stuck here with the cream of the Caspar crop.”

Gale kicked her shoe. “Oh, yeah. No lookin’. No touchin’. Not unless I wanna come home with a crack in my skull and a blue ticket in my first. At the least.”

Because Gale wasn’t scared of the military. He wasn’t scared of leaving home or being surrounded by strangers. He wasn’t scared at the possibility of having to head into a fight. But being found out? That petrified him.

Marge clutched his hand with all the strength she possessed. “I’ll write you,” she vowed. “Every day if I have to. I’ll spritz the letters with perfume and kiss them and everything. No one will know, I promise.”

Marge’s promises were better than the word of God.

Until he met John Egan.

The long-limbed, freckled, moustached, larger and louder than life man had thrown himself into Gale’s life with very little input from the man himself. He given him his name and kept by his side, like he’d adopted a dog.

Despite himself, Gale had actively tried to dislike John, or Bucky, at first. He put up a cold front to his overt friendliness; threw off his wandering hands possessed with so much affection that he just couldn’t keep them still. Gale refused every single invitation for as long as he could. And yet.

Gale found himself looking for Bucky in whenever he entered a room. He listened carefully whenever he spoke during briefings, and chiming in until they were bouncing ideas of off each other, unaware of the secret smiles of their superior officers. When Gale struggled to sleep, he found himself asking Bucky any question he could think of just to hear him rattle on until he was finally lulled to rest.

He stopped rejecting and started anticipating John’s touch, even positioning himself so as to welcome it, necessitate it; an arm over the back of a chair set close to his; a tiny gap in a doorway or corridor that required a gentle touch to a guy’s waist or his back. And soon Bucky became one of the only men Gale ever touched comfortably beyond a squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the arm.

One of the other boys had tried once, to swing an arm over Gale’s shoulder. Whether it was because he saw Bucky do it and wanted to emulate the two men so respected by the others, he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t done it again. The less said about it, the better.

Marge noticed, of course.

He hadn’t been aware of how much Bucky had filtered into his letters, and Marge’s questions had seemed innocent at first. And Gale had been all to happy for the outlet. Then in one letter she had scribbled:

He sounds like a scream, Gale. I’m glad you’ve made such a fast friend. I can't wait to meet him, and make sure he’s good enough for my fella. Can’t have you taking up with a no good kinda man who’s just going to lead you into trouble.

He knew Marge better than he knew himself. He could read between the lines: make sure he’s no bigot before you go getting attached.

Which brought them to that night at the bar. The first thing John had done on being introduced to Marge was to sweep her off for a dance.

Springing away with Gale’s girl in tow, Bucky hollered over his shoulder, “I gotta make sure poor Marge gets to dance with someone, tonight, Buck!”

The boys had all jeered and Marge swatted John’s chest playfully, but soon she was just as swept up in the force of him as they all were, and laughed with flushed cheeks the whole time.

It warmed something healing in his heart to see the two people closest to him in the world get on like a house on fire.

At one point, when Bucky went to the bar, Marge slumped into his side.

“Oh, Gale. You never stood a chance against him, did you?”

Not a snowflake’s in hell.

But before Gale could get too despondent about that, she continued. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a good man. I think he- I think you’re safe with him. Yeah?”

Gale nodded. Of course he was. It was Bucky.

Then she got that impish look on her face. “So I say, look your fill.”

Gale shushed her and looked around to see if anyone was paying closer attention than they should’ve. No one was, thankfully, and when his heart rate returned to normal, he remembered he could tease right back.

“Well," he said coyly into her ear, “speaking of looking your fill, that black-haired fella at the corner table at the back has been throwing you looks all night.”

Marge pretended to look unaffected and Gale leaned in even closer. “Don’t think I didn’t see you lookin’ back.”

Marge’s vicious little elbow checked his ribs just as Bucky came back with their drinks.

“Thank you, John,” she said primly. “But I have to visit the powder room.”

John toasted her off and looked at Buck, bemused. “Something I said?”

Gale nearly laughed. “Naw. She just likes to keep me in line.”

John shook his head. “And ain’t that a crying shame. I’m surprised she hasn’t upbraided me for trying to undo all her hard work.”

Later, Gale would blame the giddiness that came from John’s proximity for what he said next. “I only gotta behave with her. You can get me as riled up as you like.”

John inhaled too much of his drink and coughed until there were tears in his eyes. Gale flushed to his ears and kicked him under the table.

Giggling and breathless, John kicked him right back even harder. “Noted.”

“Ask Major Cleven! He’s great at calculations.”

“Sir? Sir!”

A few boys in the ground crew called Buck over, and John waved him off good naturedly. “Go awe the masses, Buck. I need a smoke anyway.”

It look less than five minutes for Marge to come barrelling towards him, a wild and furious and worried look him her eye.

“Gale, It’s John! You gotta get John!”

*

There was a door at the back of the bar that led to the dead end of an alley outside. When he just wanted a quiet smoke in the peace of the evening, John liked to head out there instead of the front with everyone else, where he could easily while away the better part of an hour talking to all and sundry.

And he was enjoying spending his evening Buck. And Marge.

She was a sweet little spitfire. She had the looks of spun glass and high class, but even after spending nothing more than a handful of hours with her, Bucky could tell she was no wall flower, no meek dame. And John didn’t think about it too closely, but he liked that the girl who Gale loved so much wasn’t so different from himself.

Where John liked the think of him and Buck as sides of the same coin - dark and light; steady and gregarious; push and pull - Marge and Buck were one of a kind, like the couples on the movie posters. Their love felt inevitable.

And, as John was learning about himself, he was apparently a possessive man, because between him and the cigarette in his mouth, he could acknowledge the bitter flash of jealousy he got when he looked at them too long.

He pushed open the back door, a box of matches in hand, and looked up on hearing two frightened gasps.

Marge. Her eyes were so wide, there was more white than blue. Her hair was a mess, clutched in the meaty hand of another man. A man who’s face was too close to the crook of her neck.

And both of them wore such fear in their eyes.

John’s cigarette finally gave up its precarious balance on John’s gaping lips and tumbled to the floor. The box of matches dove after it.

“John.” It was a tiny, panicked sound.

And it snapped John back to attention. With two strides of his long legs he had Marge tucked behind him and slammed the man into the brick wall of the alley hard, and smiled ugly with all teeth when he heard the meaty thunk of his head hit the wall.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” John snarled in the man’s face, low and incandescent with rage he didn’t even know how to begin to unleash.

“John-” Marge tugged at his back, urgent.

“Taking advantage of a girl after a few drinks-”

“No, John-!”

He grabbed two fistfuls of the guy’s shirt and rattled him until he heard teeth clack. “A girl who’s taken. By your superior officer!”

“It’s not like that!” Marge yanked at John’s ear and he was forced to turn away from the man, but he didn’t relinquish him.

He calmed himself as much as he could. “Marge. Are you alright?”

But Marge looked painfully, worryingly exacerbated. “For God’s sake, John! It’s not what it looks like!”

“It looked like he was forcing himself on ya!”

But the Marge clutching at his lapels didn’t look scared, not of the man behind him, anyway. She had a little bit of fear when she looked at him though, and John didn’t like that at all.

It’s not what it looks like.

And if it looked like she was forced…

John’s heart broke for Gale, before the red pricks of anger started to twitch at his muscles.

“Oh. It’s like that, huh?”

“No!”

“Are you with Gale or aren’t you?!”

Marge swallowed something down and almost reluctantly said, “Yes.”

The boy chose the wrong moment to pluck at the reserves of his bravado.

“There’s no harm, Major,” he panted. “It was just some harmless fun. It didn’t mean nothing. We all know Cleven’s too much of a gentleman-”

John snapped his fist into the man’s jaw and followed through. The wall was the only thing that kept him standing. So John pulled him upright and slammed a punch into the side of his face and he went tumbling down.

John followed him, straddling him as he grabbed a handful of the guy’s jacket. Blood was already smeared over his mouth and John rained down hell and hit his nose with a crack and blood came pouring outta that too.

He switched his grip to the guy’s hair to keep the lolling head upright as he leaned down and growled into his ear. “You think you’re going to make a fool out of either one of them, you got another thing coming.”

He pulled back to land one last hit, a good one to drive his point home, when a solid weight barrelled into him from behind, wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him into the air. John spun around swinging, but another arm got a stranglehold around the back of his neck and he was wrapped up painfully tight and too close to do anything.

And the scent of Buck’s cologne penetrated his senses and the fight left him.

Because fuck. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to tell Buck he’d caught his woman in the arms of another man? Should he even tell him? If it was Bucky, he’d wanna know, but maybe if he spoke to Marge and she promised it was a drunken mistake (God knows he’d had plenty of those), and it would never happen again, he wouldn’t have to tank Buck’s perfect love story.

“John!” Buck shook him hard enough that Bucky knew he tried to get his attention more than once. “The heck were you thinking?! You outta your goddamn mind?!”

Bucky heard shuffling behind him and he managed to turn just enough in Buck’s unforgiving grip to see the man being led inside by some of their boys, who shot furtive, concerned glances at their Majors.

Then there was Marge, hanging back and looking at Buck with something awfully sorry. He felt Buck nod at her and she went to head back inside, but not before sending Bucky a scathing look and a roll of her eyes.

Now there was nothing to spare him from Buck.

Only now did Buck loosen his grip and let Bucky back a step, and only a step.

“You have done some damn foolish things since I met you, Bucky. But fightin’ with a subordinate?!”

“You don’t understand-” and Buck really wasn’t sure he wanted him to.

“I understand plenty. Marge told me everything.”

Buck couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh? And what did Marge say?”

“That you caught her neckin’ with some guy and went off the damn rails!”

Buck was shocked stupid. Not just that Marge had told the truth, but that Buck seemed more pissed at him that he was at her.

“Then why are you riding me for?! I was defending you - you should be thanking me!”

Buck tensed his jaw so hard, Bucky expected to hear a crack. “Thanking you? For nearly bringing down my whole house of cards?!”

By now Bucky felt he was missing some vital information, and he couldn’t think straight with Buck so close to him, radiating fury. He shrugged off Buck’s hands and shook his head.

“Hold on, hold on,” he held up his palms. “You’re pissed at me for socking the guy making it with your girl behind your back?”

Buck sighed harsh and annoyed like Bucky was the most exasperating thing in the world and Bucky was getting more offended by the second.

“No, y’dummy!”

“Dummy?”

“I’m mad because if Marge hadn’t kept her head and got me before anyone else saw you fighting, everyone might have found out she ain’t actually my girl!”

“I - what?!”

Buck gave a frustrated groan that didn’t quite get out of his throat and prayed for patience. And maybe a little bravery. He trusted John, vexing as he could me. But sometimes fear was instinctual. But he couldn’t let Bucky go on thinking he saw what he thought he saw. But Christ if the other man didn’t make it difficult.

“But - you and Marge - since high school. You said-”

“Well, I lied. Kind of.”

“Kind of? You kind of lied?”

Bucky huffed. “We’ve been tellin’ people we’ve been together since high school. So no one would know…about me…” he trailed off meaningfully.

For all but Bucky, apparently. “Know what?”

“That I…that…” God, why couldn’t he just say it? Bucky may be as straight as they come, but he wasn’t that kind of guy, and he was Buck's best friend to boot. He choked down his frustrations and finally managed to spit out, “That…Marge ain’t the only one who likes looking at cute boys.”

Buck blushed as he said it. He sounded like a stupid teenager. But Bucky just stuttered to a stop and gawped at him. Buck watched his mouth flap, trying and failing to utter a sound, like it too couldn’t believe John Egan had finally been rendered silent.

“I - you’re-?”

“Gay? Queer? A big ol’ blue ticket? Yeah.”

What he certainly hadn’t been expecting was for Bucky to near drop to his knees in a mix of relief and panic.

“Haah-fuck, Gale," John grimaced, breathing heavy over his knees, which looked to be the only thing supporting his weight. "They're gonna court martial me in the morning. Don’t get me wrong - I’m glad I didn’t have to break your heart, tellin’ you Marge was stepping out on you, but fuck. I punched out a subordinate. Fuck.”

Side-stepping the unintentional lie in what John said, Buck, mightily and heroically refrained from rolling his eyes. “Don't get hysterical, Bucky. It don't become you. Relax, I'll fix it.”

And really, the sheer force of the scepticism on Bucky's face was down right insulting.

“Yeah? And how you gonna do that?”

Buck's brain worked furiously for an excuse - the reason’s why men hit other men over women that weren’t jealousy. Protection being the main one, but he didn’t want to put Marge in the frame at all if possible. Then he remembered a story Bucky told him once about a boy that had taken a shine to Bucky’s much younger sister, and Bucky had followed him home one day after his sister had come home cryin' with red bruises round her wrists.

“You ain't gonna like it.”

“Solid start.”

Buck nearly cuffed him round the ear like an insolent, child. “Hush. Now, you uh, ever planning on introducing your sisters to the boys?”

Bucky balked. “Absolutely not. What does that-”

“Listen. That man inside, bleeding - he looked a lot like a fella who left your sister a little worse for wear. Let the boys take that however they see fit.”

“The hell you tryna say about my sister?!”

“Nothing, idjit! Listen!”

Bucky shut his trap with visible effort.

“He looked almost exactly like that man, and when you saw him near Marge - near her and nothing else, you understand? You lost it. Alright? You’d had too much to drink, you weren’t thinking clear, and you were seeing you baby sister, not Marge. Right?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and the gesture was so typically Gale’s that it stole his breath to see it on the other man.

But he had to press on. “Right?”

Bucky capitulated. “Alright, alright. But Jeannie ever finds out about this, we’re both dead.”

Buck eyed Bucky then, waiting for the other show to fall. “Is that all you gotta say to me?”

Bucky's face fell and cleared in realisation and Buck's stomach bubbled with a flare of anxiety about what he might say.

“Ah, fuck. Sorry, yeah. I’ve got to apologise to Marge, don’t I?”

Buck’s eye twitched, because Bucky had to be playing so damn dumb on purpose.

But, he wasn’t wrong.

“Well, yeah. She liked that boy. And you gon’ scared him off.”

Bucky scoffed though, waving a dismissive hand. “If you’re her fake fella, Buck. Marge has got to raise her standards for her real one. Don’t worry, I’ll find her a nice guy; a real prince to your pauper, so to speak.”

“That is not how the story goes.”

But then something occurred to Buck. He’d seen Bucky charm plenty of women, a lot of them blondes. Now that Bucky knew Marge was technically single…

“You mean someone like you?”

Bucky smirked and stepped toe to toe with Buck. He let his large hands smooth out the wrinkles Buck had worked into his own uniform wrangling Bucky earlier. His fingers slipped to his crooked tie and slowly knotted it back into place.

“You callin’ me a prince, Buck Cleven?”

Buck wanted to brush it off, to turn it into a joke, say anything to break the tension. But his tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth. All his brain could process was the proximity of Bucky, the smell of Bucky, and heat of his fingers at Buck’s collar.

Bucky leaned closer, like a he had a secret to share. “That make you my princess?”

And that should not have crackled a hot, thrilling tremor to life that sent him rocking infinitesimally closer to Bucky, a gasp somehow escaping the clutch his teeth had on his lips.

Bucky’s eyes darkened, but before he could say or do anything, the backdoor to the pub opened again and Marge’s golden head popped out.

“If you two are quite done?” she sounded like a teacher scolding the class clowns. “I am fending off almost an entire bomb group in there by myself and they’re like a pack of wild dogs. Some help, if you’d be so kind.”

Buck coughed and stepped back and trotted dutifully to Marge’s side. “Sorry, darlin’,” he said and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

Bucky was left with Marjorie Spencer staring at him, hands on her hips.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

Sheepishly, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defence, you could do better?”

He saw murder in her eyes and quickly backtracked. Now was not the time for jokes. Evidently Marge did not appreciate them the way Buck did.

Bucky dropped his arms by his sides and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, no matter what I thought. I’m not - God, Marge, I’m not a violent man. Bit of a motor mouth sure, and I’ll stand up for any of my boys, but I don’t usually…”

Marge let him stew in the silence for a bit. But eventually, “No you shouldn’t have. I might be thankful that Gale has you looking out for him, but you can’t be such a hot head, John Egan. I don’t appreciate it and Gale don’t like it.”

Gently, Bucky took one of Marge’s hands, tiny in one of his, and raised it to his lips to place a sorry kiss there with a rueful smile “I will never lay hands on someone like that again, unless it's for a very good reason. I promise. But Buck’s pretty good at keeping me in check.”

Marge blessed him with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he is.”

And then Bucky was back in full force. “But seriously, Marge, you’ve got to at least date sideways. You can’t date down. Anyone less than Buck ain’t good enough for you.”

She rolled her eyes and pointed him back inside, letting him offer his arm. “Well when you find him, you let me know. Because I’m shit outta luck.”

They re-entered the pub laughing and any remaining tension in the room seemed to release. As Bucky took Marge for another spin round the dancefloor, he felt Buck’s eyes on them and risked a glance. And what a risk. Gale stared, blue eyes pinned on him over the smooth rim of his glass, tracking Bucky’s every move and licking the moisture off his lips.

Bucky threw him a wink and mouthed, Later, princess.

*

Colonel Huglin did not appreciate having to consider disciplinary action at six am. Yet having a man like Major John Egan under his command meant Huglin’s dreams didn’t count for much.

He watched this respected, no, revered man stand before him, clasp and unclasp his hands, purse his lips, and shift his legs like he was fighting the urge to rock on his heels. Like a misbehaving school boy. If Huglin had never met him, and someone had asked him to pick out the best pilot (on par with Major Cleven), the quickest thinker, an excellent strategist and the man almost single-handedly responsible for morale on base, Huglin wouldn't even have spared John a glance.

And yet.

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I’d bet my commission that the young fella you thrashed good and sound yesterday looks real pretty this morning.”

John grimaced. And, surprisingly enough it was not the wince of one awaiting an unwanted scolding, but one that actually looked like regret. John, who never ever failed to look a man in the eye, looked down at his shoes, lips twisting, and just nodded.

Major Cleven had come to him even earlier, at 5.20am, before Huglin had even had his coffee, and filled him in on what happened last night.

“You know Major Egan, Sir. I know you don’t always see eye to eye but he’s not a violent man, not like that. But,” and Gale and leaned forward in his chair, concern creasing his brow and wringing his hands together, “his sister, before he left, she had some…awful kind of trouble. With a fella. That looked just like the man from last night, John said. You know how much he looks after the men, and he loves his sisters. It drives him crazy he’s not there to look after ‘em with their dad not being around anymore… Sorry Sir, I’m rambling.” He was, and it was unlike Cleven who was a man of few words. Surely, a testament to his worry over his friend and brother-in-arms. “I just mean to say, John thought - John saw -"

And Huglin had cut Cleven off with a wave of his hand. He understood. He’d seen countless men wide eyed, crying or screaming at something or someone who wasn’t really there. It didn’t mean Egan could get entirely off the hook, but he understood.

“You have anything to say for yourself?”

“Can I see him?”

Huglin hadn't been expecting that. “What?”

“The…guy. God I don’t even know his name. But I’d like to apologise, if he’ll let me. He deserves that at least, and I’d like to settle it before I go.”

He wasn’t due to fly to Thorpe Abbots until mid-morning. There was plenty of time. “Evans. Airman First Class Evans. And I’ll ask his superior officer and let you know.”

Bucky released a breath and nodded, more to himself, Huglin thought, before he squared his shoulders at the Colonel.

“I just want to apologise, Sir. What I did yesterday was not becoming of a Major of the US Airforce. I know that. It’s not the kind of man I am or how I want my men to see me. I’m…” John swallowed. “I embarrassed the uniform. And I hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Huglin needed a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t stupid. He knew part of the reason the men admired Egan so was because he never backed down from the higher ups, always spoke his mind and said his piece - but Huglin couldn’t think of one time it wasn’t on their behalf. To get them what they needed or give them the best odds, or even distract them on days the base just became too heavy. But this was a side of John that Huglin had never seen: the human man underneath the military man.

And Huglin had sisters, too. He could empathise.

“I’m glad to hear that, Major. Normally, there’d be a disciplinary hearing, and we’d decide what was to be done with you.”

John bit his cheek but nodded, accepting.

“But, I think in this case, I can smooth things over. If, you apologise to Evans and his CO, and goddamn cool it on the liquor, John. I mean it. There might even be a mandatory anger management session with the doc in your future, and if so I won't hear a damn single word of complaint from you, understood?”

John reared back looking stunned, and Huglin let himself enjoy it. “Don’t look so surprised. Your buddy Cleven was by here and told me everything. And be glad he did. Otherwise I’d be tempted to ground you the rest of this damn war.”

John said nothing.

“Alright, get out of here. You’ve got a trip to prepare for. And an apology, too.”

“Yes, sir,. John turned smartly on his heels and headed for the door.

When he reached the jam, Huglin called out,. "And John? Give my best wishes to your sister, will you? If they need anything, you let me know.”

John made a funny noise in his throat and nodded before he all but fled the room.

Buck was waiting for him outside. He leapt to his feet when he saw Bucky emerge looking frazzled.

“Well? How’d it go?”

Bucky fell into step next to him, and out of the corner of his mouth said, “What on earth did you tell Huglin? Because whatever it was, I almost got out of there scot-free.”

And Buck didn't fail to notice that Bucky didn’t sound happy about it. He new in the sober light of day, and with the clarity sleep brings, John would be beating himself up something fierce for attacking that boy. Which he should, by rights, but John did take self-flagellation to extremes sometimes. Gale wondered if it was the Catholic in him, lapsed or not.

“You’re still Air Exec?”

“Yeah?”

Buck nudged him. “Sounds like a punishment to me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and came to a halt at the mouth of the building, staring out onto the tarmac.

“I want to apologise to the boys,” he said, hands on his hips and head hanging low. “I just, can’t stop thinking about them seeing me like that. I don’t…”

Standing where they were, Buck couldn't do much but clasp his shoulder and lean down to look Bucky in the eye. “Then let’s go find ‘em.”

The boys, as it turned out, were just finishing getting dressed. They didn’t notice the Majors enter the bunk house at first.

“-wonder what happened?”

“None of your business, that’s what happened,” said DeMarco.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Brady. Bucky flinched.

“Ay,” Curtis dove into the conversation. “You don’t know shit. If he got a bit banged up, then he deserved it. Don’t go thinking anything else.”

And despite himself, Bucky let himself crack a smile at Curt’s friendship and loyalty.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Brady insisted, stubborn and louder. “John’s our leader. He’s a Major. I’m his co-pilot for crying out loud. He should be setting an example, and starting bar fights isn’t it. I don’t know about you, but I want to head into war with the John Egan who has your back, and keeps his head in the air so good he solves problems before half the crew even notice they’re there. Not the John who’ll flip at a switch. I don’t like that John.”

Several of the boys protested and booed Brady and started yelling and cursing, and they knew a more serious argument was about the break out with Brady bearing the brunt of it if they didn’t step in.

Buck let Bucky go when he stepped further into the room.

“Brady’s right,” he called, and the men snapped to attention and Brady dropped the shoe he’d been polishing and stumbled to his feet.

Buck walked up steady behind Bucky, a solid presence at his shoulder. “At ease, gentlemen.”

Bucky stood tall and true. “Last night, I acted in a way that was unfit for a man of the US Airforce, rank be damned. It should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I just wanted you to know that.” He surveyed the boys and they looked on silent. “We all make mistakes, and things get heated sometimes. This one is my mistake, and I’ll own that. So don’t you boys go thinking that starting fights with your fellow airmen to blow of some steam is acceptable. It’s not. You can all learn that lesson from me. That’s part of my job - teaching you how to avoid making the same mistakes I have.”

And in true Bucky fashion he flipped the solemn mood of the room with a switch and a turn of his lips and he gave them a sincere Bucky grin.

“Like that time I wandered into the Colonel’s quarters by mistake and got stuck on latrine duty for a week.” The boys relaxed into their laughter. “Remember that?” He pointed at Curt. “You made me sleep out in that abandoned storage hut until I was done.”

“You stank!”

“Or that time I yanked Ham back from the shaky step heading into the mess hall?”

Ham howled from his bunk. “Because you’d tripped a week or so before it, and sent your scrambled eggs all down a Red Cross dame. That handprint on your cheek didn’t disappear for a whole day!”

Buck just stood back and marvelled at Bucky's ability to work a room.

“So if me or Buck here ain’t around to give you the benefit of our experience,” he reached out and clasped the back of Brady’s head and scrubbed it playfully, “be damn sure you listen to Brady. Best co-pilot there is.”

The men all hollered and scrambled to rib at Brady, rubbing his head like Bucky did or punching him playfully in the arm or chucking his chin.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “Because we’re the 100th. The best damn bomb squad there is. And we’ll damn well act like it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir!”

Bucky shouted louder. “I said do you hear me?!”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“Because who are we?!”

“The 100th!”

“Who are we?!!”

“THE 100TH!”

“Then get your gear on, get out there, and show ‘em how it’s done!”

Making a thunderous racket, the boys gathered the last of their things and rushed out the door, Brady the last of the group, shooting Bucky a small, pleased, and proud smile before he disappeared.

The silence they left behind was a stark contrast. Until Buck couldn’t take it anymore.

He snorted and cackled and John threw his hands in the air. “Really, Buck?”

Buck cleared his throat and got himself under control. Adopting the highest voice he could, in something that could barely pass as Bucky's odd not-quite Wisconsin accent, he teased him, “My name’s John Egan, and I’m a terrible leader on the ground!”

Bucky shoved him hard, but yanked him back with a firm arm around his bicep and pulled him in close, so the buckles of their belts gave a soft clack in greeting.

They were alone.

“I’ll be flying at at 10.30 sharp,” Bucky mumbled up close.

Buck nodded. “I know. I’ll see you off, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Mm, with a handshake in front of the boys.”

Buck gave him a firm look. “Of course. Don’t you go thinking otherwise.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in closer, and Buck was surprised that he even could. “But the boys aren’t here, now.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re lookin’ for, huh? A little send of?”

Bucky's hands bravely slipped down to his waist and squeezed, and Buck resolutely did not think about how his waist fit all nice in John’s stupidly large hands. He was not a small man - he was tall; he worked hard all his life, and despite a less than stellar childhood, always had enough to eat. But John was just so damn big.

“Just a kiss, Buck. For luck. To tide me over till you get over the pond.”

Buck grinned, a rare one showing his teeth and leaned in until he felt the softness of Bucky's lips skim the edges of his own. He kept it there, just not quite touching until he heard Bucky's breath hitch and his hands tried their hardest not to wander some more.

And against that mouth he’d dreamed about in his sleep, he’d fantasised about in his waking hours, he murmured, playful and sweet, “No.”

He turned sharp in his heels and escaped Bucky's grasp and threw a pleased grin over his shoulder at Bucky gaping in his wake.

“Buck!”

“You’ll just have to wait for me, Johnny!” And Gale ducked out of the bunk house and left Bucky behind, to attend his duties.

And John stood there wondering what on earth he was in for, taking up with a tease like Buck Cleven. But he couldn’t wait to find out.

[blindmagdalena]

Homelander and spanking is giving me brainrot rn. Just imagine lightly smacking his ass throughout the day as a joke only for him to turn tables and go from 0 to 100 REAL quickly

18+, f!reader, spanking, dirty talk, inappropriate use of a conference room, p-in-v sex, cream pie. The first time you slap Homelander's ass, it's a drive-by at work. It's quick, a sharp little smack with the back of your hand because he hasn't noticed his cape is pulled aside, hooked on a chair. No one he's standing with notices, but he whips his head around to look at you. You're already halfway down the hall, practically fleeing from him while grinning to yourself.

The two of you have been dating for a while. It's certainly the office's worst kept secret, but you both still like to play around as if no one knows.

It happens again that same day while the two of you are alone in The Seven's conference room, and this time it's a full on assault. It's hardly your fault that when you drop your pen, he doesn't bend with his knees. Instead, he bends perfectly in half, acting the part of the ideal gentleman to pick up your pen. You reel both hands back, and clap him loudly on the ass, surprising even yourself with the sound it makes.

The look on his face when he whirls around on you makes you nearly scream with laughter, muffling it into both your hands.

"Okay," he says slowly, voice pitched so menacingly that you instantly turn on your heel, making a break for the closed door, but he catches you by the waist and yanks you right back. "You wanna play? Let's play."

"No! No! It was just a joke! I won't do it again!" You cry, writhing in his grip, still laughing.

"Nope. You started this, now I'm gonna finish it," he says, bending you over the table. He keeps you there with nothing more than a light hand on your lower back, and shamelessly flips your skirt up over your hips.

You gasp, whole body tensing up immediately. "Oh my god, hold on-"

The first crack of his gloved hand against your ass knocks the next words completely from your brain, swiftly emptying it. You expect that to be the end of it, a revenge beautifully executed. Until he does it again.

This time, you moan.

The sound surprises both of you.

You feel your whole face flush, your stomach doing backflips. You reach back to push your skirt down, wildly embarrassed by how obscene the noise had been in your own ears.

However, Homelander doesn't let you up. Instead, he takes hold of your wrist and curls it behind your back, wringing another surprised noise from you. "Wh-what're you-" He does it again. He's incredibly restrained, striking with such precision of strength, it's honestly a wonder. To your mortification, you can feel your clit beginning to throb. Holy fuck, this is turning you on fast. He delivers another sharp little smack, and then another. You clench your thighs together, panting out pitchy little breaths with every blow.

Homelander slides his hand up from the small of your back to the back of your neck, squeezing it. You can feel yourself beginning to soak your panties, ridiculously wet not only from the way he's spanking you, but from the ragged way you can hear him breathing. Knowing he's getting off on this as much as you are strikes a chord low in your belly.

"H-Homelander," you moan. Your ass is beginning to smart, hot to the touch. Even when he just rubs it, it feels absolutely electric. "Jesus Christ," he growls, gritting the words out through his teeth.

The next thing you know, he lets go of your neck and you hear a distinctive metallic click. It's followed immediately by an audible shuffle of fabric, and then you feel him hook the crotch of your panties with his thumb, pulling the material aside.

You recognize the shape of the fat head of his cock pushing against your pussy immediately. It makes an obscene, wet noise upon contact, smearing not only your wetness, but his. He rocks his hips, grinds back and forth against you, trailing that wetness from your clit nearly all the way back to your ass.

"All this time," he breathes, voice rough, already wrecked with his own arousal. "You just wanted me to spank you, huh?"

You make a pleading little noise, spreading your legs further.

"Could'a just asked, sweetheart," he says, huffing a laugh. You can hear how he's restraining himself, forcing himself to go slow, keeping himself from shoving inside you all at once. He fucks lazily between the wet folds of your cunt, slowly driving you wild.

"C'mon," you urge, rocking back against him. "Fuck me," you say, but instead of moving him along any faster, all you get is another sharp slap to your ass.

"Say please," he chides.

"Please," you moan readily, knees quivering. "Please, please fuck me."

He grunts out a tight little "Fuck," and takes your hips in both hands as he finally lines himself up with your cunt. He moves slow, makes you pant and whine as he eases just the thick head of his cock into you. He rocks you back and forth with ease, like a toy, working himself gradually deeper.

You claw at the table, struggling to find purchase, but the glass is smooth and too wide, leaving you absolutely nothing to grip. You can't do anything but take it, moaning feverishly as he opens you up.

"Always take me so fucking good," he groans, halfway there now, savoring the way your walls cling to him. "Like you were made to."

"I was," you say, hands balled up into fists, panting condensation onto the glass table top. "I was made for you, feel so fucking good in me, oh fuck, fuck, my pussy's still shaped like you."

Those words snap something in him, cause him to jerk you back the rest of the way onto his cock. Your ass stings deliciously when he bottoms out against it, wringing another pitchy moan from you. You've always had the power to shatter his meticulously crafted control, and today is no exception.

You wanted him to fuck you, and you're going to get it.

Homelander fucks you in sharp, deep little bursts, barely leaving you, just grinding deeper and deeper until you feel the head of his cock bumping into the very core of you.

Abruptly, he pulls you up until your back is flush to his chest. He wraps one hand around your waist while the other goes right to your throat, lifting you clean off your feet, holding you tight while he mercilessly pounds into you.

You have no leverage, can't do anything but grab hold of his wrist with both hands, clinging to him. Your ass burns and your cunt fucking aches, and there's a pressure building in you so rapidly you feel like you're going to explode.

"I-I'm gonna come," you gasp wetly, tears gathering in your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of sensation. "H-Homelander, I'm gonna come, I'm-I'm gonna come!"

He just pumps his hips faster, buries his face in the crook of your neck and fucking bites into your shoulder. It surprises you so much you nearly scream, and with it, your climax hits you like a truck. Your whole body seizes up, an explosion of waves rolling through you. The euphoria is unbelievable, knocks the wind right out of your lungs and paralyzes you, leaves you unable to breathe while Homelander fucks you through it.

After one last hard slam, Homelander stills, spilling into you with a ragged, gasping moan. The heat and flood of it is so intense, you almost take it for a second orgasm, goosebumps erupting across your body all over again.

Slowly, gently, Homelander lowers you back down onto the table, covering your body with his.

The two of you stay like that for several long moments, both catching your breath, both equally shocked by the rate at which the situation had escalated.

Eventually, after a deep breath, you say, "So... I like spanking."

"Yeah," Homelander exhales, licking his lips. "Me too."

[cree-n-jewish-thoughts]

I honestly feel like people do not know anything about the first and second Roman dynasties. Especially the second Roman Emperor.

Jews had no control of politics, no control of law, we also have different ways of execution (at the time Jewish law would have stated he be stoned to death).

In the first Roman dynasty ran by Augustus, he married Tiberius' mother Livia Drusilla. When Augustus died he did not give the Roman Empire to any of his biological children, he always favored Tiberius. So anyways at this time of Augustus it was... Okay-ish to be a Jew under Augustus. We were allowed to practice, we were allowed to work and own businesses. Not saying the treatment was good by any means. We still had no say in the Senate. Anyways Augustus passed away and left the Roman Empire to Tiberius. Tiberius very soon after taking control of the empire expelled Jews from the empire, did not allow the practice of Judaism, did not allow us to own businesses, we were not allowed to work. It was said that over one hundred prophets died under his command, Christ being one of them.

Tiberius was responsible for literally bankrupting Rome by building a huge, expensive Colosseum. He even started to put copper inside of silver and gold coins so he could save money for the also expanding military. His people despised him, so he became paranoid and actually killed many in the Senate and several of his advisors, to the point people did not want that prestigious job working for him. Tiberius went crazy and went into hiding with his son. Fearing that any large group were to get together that he could die/ lose Rome, he instructed soldiers to kill anyone who had a following, with the punishment of crucifixion (as did many other crimes). Jews had no control and no say in the Roman Empire at this time, so no, there was no "Jewish trial" even. It did not matter your religion at the end of the day, Tiberius did not want anyone having any type of following. As I previously stated he was thought to kill over one hundred prophets.

So, no. There was no Jewish trial because Jesus was Jewish, it was a Roman trial because he broke a Roman law of having a following.

Jews were not allowed to even practice inside the Roman Empire, so there would not have been any Jews involved in the trial. Also the punishment in that time period of a Jewish trial for blasphemy would have been a stoning.

A little bit of history for you all.

[goldenfigtree]

OMG THAT WAS ONLY PART 1 OF THE FIC ????? HELP I NEED MORE I NEED TO SEE MORE OF THIS

Raise A Glass

Summary: Part 2 of 3, After your passionate moment with Leon in the garden, you feel even more conflicted than you were before.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x FemReader

Warning: Fluff

A/N: Ask and you shall receive! Part one is below if you've yet to read it :)

Part one

Bright and luminous, the moon hangs from its invisible string, blissfully unaware of its glow shining through your windows and onto your face. The sounds of Will’s snores were the only sound throughout your home while you laid in bed without a blink of sleep, fingers intertwined together and thumbs twiddling. 

This was unlike you, especially with the rehearsal dinner coming soon this evening and the wedding another day later. Most days that consisted of wedding planning left you in shambles, collapsing onto your plush mattress with a pitiful whine into your pillows and soon after, sleep swooping you under its wing. This new stressful yet effective routine had helped you gain all the hours of sleep you purposely lost before. But not this time, not when your mind was captivated with guilt, confusion, and stress. Ever since that moment in the garden, your mind has been an utter mess. 

You thought you were in a moment of distress before, hell, now you really knew what distress was after leaving Leon in such a state. 

You let out a sharp exhale through your teeth, brows furrowed as Leon’s face flashed into your mind, your lipstick residue on his lips, over and over again. And those eyes, God, those ocean blue irises watching you run away. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

The antique grandfather clock Will refused to throw out, despite your visible distaste for it, mocked you with its consistent clicking. Only reminding you that you needed to decide what road to take, now that there were two. Sliding your hands underneath the pillow lying under your head, you bring the sides to your ears in hopes the ticking and clicking will go away. 

God, you always hated that clock, you didn’t care if it was a family heirloom. It was as hideous as it is noisy, but Will insisted. Just like how he insisted on having yellow as one of the colors of the wedding theme, forgetting how much you despised the color. You really wished time travel was a thing so you could stop yourself from fighting with him about how little effort and input he had put into the wedding. Maybe while you were at it, you could stop yourself from kissing those soft plump lips at the garden fountain. . 

No, you couldn’t even if you tried. 

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that man had always been the apple of your eye. One mission with you and him as partners was all that it took for the both of you to hit it off. It was hard to not get along with Leon Kennedy. Someone so humble, kind, and loyal to his comrades. You always knew, if all else fails, Leon Kennedy was there to save the day. Which was also why he was overly worked. Everyone knew the way Leon Kennedy executed missions and pushed himself was on a different level. A level so many competitive and envious agents tried to achieve and so many other smitten agents oggled at. He was practically a celebrity to anyone working with the government. So, you didn’t look twice at the possibility of him perceiving you in any other light that wasn’t friendly, much less romantic. With all the options he had, certainly not. 

And yet, He kissed you.

Subconsciously, your bottom lip traps itself between your teeth. Being so good at everything, you didn’t expect him to be a good kisser too. What couldn’t that man do?

 Jesus Christ. How heartless can I be?

You think to yourself, turning to your soon-to-be husband, snoring away, blissfully unaware of the mess you were at the moment. At this point, sleep was a lost cause and you needed some fresh air. Swinging your legs to the edge of the bed, you slowly get up and walk out of the bedroom. Arms crossed, in your silk nightgown, you walk silently to your kitchen and make a beeline to the coffee maker. Call it self-sabotage, but you desperately need a friend. And since you kissed the only person you could talk to, coffee would have to suffice for now. Making it just the way you like, you walk outside and sit on one of the patio chairs, bathing in twilight as you take a comforting sip. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

There it was again, that blasted ticking of the grandfather clock– or was it just your head? It’s midnight and you’re exhausted from your mental turmoil so with another sip you decide to ignore it. However, one thought loomed over you like a stormy cloud, no matter the effort to fan it away,

You are getting married in two days. 

“What am I going to do?” You murmur to yourself, eyes pressed shut as you run a hand through your hair. Then you remembered, you do have someone you can talk to about this. Pulling your phone out from you pajama pants pocket, you dial the number quickly, “C’mon pick up. I know you’re awake” you whisper urgently to yourself as you hold up your phone to your ear. With two dials, a voice answers, 

“Can’t sleep either huh?” Claire wittedly greets over the line. Your lips curve into a smile of relief, 

“Nope” You perkily reply, earning a chuckle on the other end, “Do you have time to talk? I’m not bothering you, am I?” 

“No, what’s up?” 

There’s a pause between you that’s almost hesitant, hesitant enough for Claire to press, 

“Is everything okay?” With a sheepish chuckle, you shake your head, 

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to about… Leon” There’s another pause, 

“Oh!” Claire cheerily replies, almost too cheerful you noticed. 

“Yeah, did you see Leon at the engagement party a few days ago at all?” 

“Yeah, I bumped into him on the way to getting your engagement present. But after that, I didn’t see him for the rest of the evening”  

Your heart dropped, he must have left shortly after you ran away. You couldn’t blame him, but the thought of Leon being upset or hurt by you was slowly killing you inside. 

“Did.. something happen?” Claire gingerly asks. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a long sigh, 

“Yeah, I.. kissed him. At the engagement party” One hand holding the phone to your ear, you use the other to pinch the bridge of your nose as you continue, “I know Claire, I know” 

“Well, how was it?” You eyes flutter open in shock, 

“Huh?” 

“You heard me, how was it?” With a nervous chuckle, you try to find someway to word it, but your words were utterly failing you at the moment, 

“It was… awesome” Claire’s laughter erupts the phone as you wince at your choice of words, 

“Really?” Claire says teasingly,

“Shut up” 

“Any specific reason why you decided to kiss Leon at your engagement party?” 

“Well you, of all people, you know I’ve always had feelings for Leon. And then I met Will..” 

“Uhuh” Claire beckons you to go on,

“And Will’s just so nice and safe. Not something I’m particularly used to so I jumped into this relationship and now we’re getting married in two days and those feelings I have for Leon, they’re still there.” You ramble, voice trembling, your foot anxiously tapping on the floor as you look out to your freshly cut green lawn. 

“Sounds to me that you’re conflicted” 

“You think?” You mutter under your breath, anxious for some answers, some directions of which road to take,

“You mentioned you like Will because he’s safe right?” 

“Yeah, I mean he’s a teacher, so my work schedule won’t be hard if we start a family. And he makes me laugh. He’s just all around just a nice guy” 

“That’s nice n’ all but people usually get married for love not convenience” Claire bluntly comments, “Look, I know you, you’re not one to take risks, which can be good at times but to marry someone because they don’t challenge you is not safe” 

“So, should I run to Leon then?” 

“I don’t know, that’s for you to decide” Claire responds, earning another dramatic groan from you, “I know I know, but I’m not going to make life choices for you. Need help deciding whether to drink decaf or not, then I’ll have an answer for you” 

The both of you share a laugh as you feel the distress you were feeling a few minutes before slightly lift off. 

–

10 more minutes. 10 more minutes until everyone would arrive for the rehearsal dinner. You couldn’t help but repeat everything Claire had said in your head as you put on your earrings, 

“Safety or love, safety or love” you whispered to yourself, not realizing Will walking right past you, 

“You say something honey?” Avoiding his gaze, you try your best to focus on the application of your makeup as Will approaches you, pressing down the panic in your chest as you feel his presence closing in, 

“No, just focused on my makeup. Want it to be just right for tonight” Resting his hands on your shoulders, he looks at you through the bathroom mirror, his green eyes glowing from the bright bathroom light along with his shimmering golden blonde hair,

“You look great babe” He reassured pressing a kiss on the back of your neck. It took a second to realize that he did because what you felt was nothing, absolutely nothing, “Your family is on their way, Claire is going to be a little late” 

“Is Leon coming?” the green eyes in the reflection that once glowed with their usual uppity, darkened almost immediately, 

“I don’t know, why?” Averting his eyes you resume applying lipstick onto your lips. The air was so thick with tension it could be sliced through with a knife,

“Just wondering babe” you say as nonchalant as possible, earning a scoff from Will,

“You know he showed up late and left early at our engagement party? For someone that’s a close friend of yours, he sure doesn’t seem supportive” Will comments resentfully,

You could feel a coiling in your stomach at his words, your tongue suddenly having a mind of its own, 

“He’s very busy, Will. Him showing up for our engagement party and our rehearsal dinner is supportive enough” 

“That’s right, how could I forget? Leon Brown-Noser Kennedy can do no wrong in anyone’s eyes, especially yours” Will quips viciously, tightening the knot of his tie in the long mirror. The coil in your stomach tightened even more as you looked back at him through the bathroom mirror, pupils shrinking,

“What’s your problem?” You ask, glaring at him as you twist the cap of your mascara back in place. 

Will doesn’t look at you, only scoffs once more as he straightens his blazer, “what’s my problem?” with one last look in the mirror, he doesn’t look at you as he walks out of the room, only muttering one word in passing, “Nothing” 

You flinch at the sudden sound of him slamming the door, the sound alone preparing you, for what you already knew, was going to be a long night. But, you knew that you had to keep on with this search for what you wanted. And tonight, Leon was the one bearing the answers you so desperately needed. You wondered what he was thinking now, did he regret the kiss? Knowing him, you assumed he would want answers, answers you didn’t have yourself. Your rather gaudy engagement ring sparkles in the mirror aggressively, almost like the high beams of a car at night. Bringing it closer to your face, the memories stored in its jagged cuts and silver band dance around your head like a carousel. It was truly a beautiful moment, Will practically in tears as he professes his love to you on one knee, everyone around you at the pier looking at the both of you with awe and joy, the sun setting just for the two of you. It was truly breathtaking, but was it you? You had your wedding planned practically since birth, you knew exactly what type of cut of gemstone you wanted, the color scheme, the venue, the dress, absolutely everything. Was this massive rock on your finger what you admired in the wedding magazines as a kid? Was a public proposal always something you longed for when watching cheesy rom-coms? 

The answer was no and you knew it. But Will loved you, maybe not in the ways you wished he would but he loved you. Leon on the other hand, you had no idea how he felt and that alone was more terrifying than any biohazard monstrosity you’ve seen. One moment of passion wasn’t enough to throw this safety net away. You needed confirmation. You needed reciprocation. With a huff of a breath you look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the neckline of your snowy white strapless dress. You were ready for this, you had to be for the sake of what lies ahead. 

Walking down the stairs, your can’t help but look around at who arrived, looking for a certain someone. It seemed that everyone noticed you make your entrance and looked up at you as you gazed down at them, gripping the stair railing to make sure you didn’t trip and fall to your death. You receive some greetings, some singing jokingly “here comes the bride”, but the only person you seemed to notice was him. 

He was there, gazing at you, pupils billowing, invading his blue irises. You almost forgot to breathe as you made your way down the stairs, step by step. Making it to the bottom, you make your way to him, eyes fixated at him with such determination that the crowd parted as you neared them. Finally, you meet him where he stands, 

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly, so no one else could hear. You try your hardest not to glance down at his lips but it seemed that Leon didn’t hesitate to look down at yours before nodding. The tension between the two of you dissolving by the clearing of the throat by Will, 

“Better dig in before the food gets cold, you coming sweetheart?” Will asks expectantly, lending a hand for you to take. Your heart drops at the sight of it, you hoped to get your answers before dinner. Before Leon decided to briskly sneak away back to the comfort of his home like last time. But, with one last longing look, you take Will’s hand and let him lead you to the dining room. 

The dining room was centered with a long glossy wood table, golden candleholders held the tall waxy candles in place as they dripped along the rims. Food trays and bowls lined and scattered along the table. The candlelight made the food and atmosphere all the more alluring enough for everyone to quickly sit down and be ready to serve themselves. 

The small talk with in-laws alone was thinning your patience, only the few glances at Leon talking to Claire keeping you sane. Sometimes Leon would make eye contact with you and smile, you couldn’t help but smile back before noticing the squeezing of your hand by Will’s. After a bit of eating and socializing, Will taps his champagne glass with his spoon to quiet down your guests, 

“First of all, I just want to thank all of you for coming to support our union. I hope your full bellies are evident enough of our gratitude” polite laughter briefly rises at his words before he continues on, “It’s an Allen family tradition to have a few people make a toast to the soon-to-be wed couple, care to start us off Leon?” 

Everyone at the table immediately snaps their necks to look at him for his reaction. It was safe to say this wasn’t expected. Your stomach dropped as you looked up at Will, eyebrows turned up in worry as you glanced back at him apologetically. Leon, being Leon, only gives you a reassuring smile before standing up and lifting his glass with him, 

“First, I’d like to say congratulations to the lovely couple” both your family and Will’s nod in approval, 

“Choosing the person you want to spend your life with, is the most important decision in our lives. It should be with someone that knows you, challenges you, sees all the good in you that you don’t see in yourself. And I have to say William, you have found that someone in her.” 

While he says this, his eyes slowly trail to you, giving you a warm feeling in your chest, “The moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. Then once I got to meet you, I found out I was right. You carry yourself with so much strength but also with so much love to give. And I’m so grateful to be one of the receptors of it. I think I might have taken it for granted. But I need you to know now and forever, no matter where you are, no matter who you’re married to, I will always love you” 

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes drip with tears, yet never straying away from his, deafening silence fills the dining hall as relatives and friends glance at one another in shock and confusion. This was it, the confirmation you were looking for, brought to your feet.  

“Like a brother to his sister, cheers to the Bride and Groom” He adds to save face before lifting his glass higher, the rest of the table following suit before gulping down their champagne.

[badfanfictionaire]

Contrary to popular belief, Eddie Munson actually hates Halloween. There’s only so many times a kid can take being invited to participate in a group costume, only to find out it was a joke, before the whole concept gets ruined. Not to mention the amount of times he’s had to help Wayne scrape eggs off the trailer, or rip toilet paper out of trees. And yeah, Mischief Night is the night before Halloween, but that’s why most of his Halloween memories include Wayne swearing up and down when he woke up in the morning to broken windows and orange spray paint covering the side of his truck.

Even before he lived with Wayne, Halloween just wasn’t a good time for young Eddie. His mother refused to let him eat candy because she was convinced it was poison, and his dad was almost always too drunk to take him out trick or treating anyway. Most nights Eddie just sat in the living room watching whatever Halloween movie was playing on TV.

Lately he’s been going to Halloween parties because he makes a killing selling at them, but he still hates them. He refuses to dress up, what’s the point? He already dresses like a freak every day anyhow.

The only reason this Halloween is any different is because, after everything that’s gone down, he owes it to Steve and the kids to play along and have fun. So, there he was, sitting in the Harrington’s living room, dressed to the nines in a handmade Batman costume. Robin had tried to convince Steve to go as Batman so she could be her namesake sidekick, but he’d declined, so Eddie offered instead. He was even doing the voice, though it was getting sloppier as he got drunker. The kids weren’t old enough to drink still (haha) but he and the other adults had glasses of spiked cider to sip on. Eddie hated to admit it, but he’d already refilled his little plastic pumpkin goblet three times. Turns out that Halloween beverages can be delicious.

The night goes on and Eddie finds he’s loosened enough to join in on a game of charades. Afterwords, he joins Steve outback for a smoke, and when they go back inside he starts thinking maybe that was a bad idea given the amount of rum he’d consumed already. Because, he’s clearly hallucinating.

“Eddie, look, we got you a Halloween present!” Dustin declares proudly.

“Haha guys, very funny, but I’m not falling for your trick.”

“It’s not a trick,” Mike groans, crossing his arms over his chest, “These idiots thought this was a great idea.”

He blinks at the group before him. Most of them he knows because they’re his gremlins, but the middle figure he can’t distinguish. For one, they’re wearing a bloody white wedding dress. And for two, they have a burlap bag over their head.

“What the hell?!” Steve shouts, having just finished locking the back slider and joining them.

“Just last week Eddie said the only way we’d get him to a Halloween party was if we got Chrissy Cunningham herself to attend. So we did! Because Eddie held up his end of the bargain.”

“You have to to be kidding me,” Steve stomps forward and carefully removes the bag from the newcomers head.

Chrissy Cunningham blinks back at them, dressed as the bride of Frankenstein.

“Dustin! I was joking!” Eddie screeches, “You can’t just kidnap people!”

Dustin looks genuinely disappointed. “You could be a little more appreciative, this took us forever to perfectly execute.”

“Yeah, and I had to steal Billy’s car to get her here!” Max scowls, “You’re welcome.”

“You did what?” Billy shouts, appearing from the kitchen.

“I think the kidnapping is the bigger issue here,” Steve says, putting a hand on Billy’s chest to stop him from pummeling someone.

“Can someone untie my arms?” Chrissy pipes up.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie groans, stepping forward and digging his pocket knife out of his utility belt.

Carefully he cuts the twine they tied her wrists together with and helps her over to the couch. Steve steers the kids into the dining room for a lecture, Robin appears with a bottle of water which she hands to Chrissy, and Billy heads for the backyard to cool down.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie begins, “They’re idiots, I’m so so sorry.”

“They didn’t hurt me or anything,” Chrissy assures, “Just kind of caught me off guard.”

“I’ll drive you back to your own party,” he offers, “You sure you’re ok? You want some food or something?”

“I’m fine really,” she says with a sweet smile, “You really asked for me by name?”

“I um, uh-” He scratches the back of his neck. “It was a joke, I just really didn’t want to come tonight. It was a metaphor, like, “when pigs fly” or some shit.”

“That’s not a metaphor dingus,” Robin quips.

“Did I ask you?!” he snaps back.

“But why me?” Chrissy asks.

“Because he’s obsessed with you,” Nancy says, joining them and handing Chrissy a pumpkin donut on a little paper plate shaped like a ghost.

“That makes it sound fucking creepy, Wheeler.”

“It is fucking creepy,” Robin says.

“You two can go now!”

Chrissy giggles. “You barely know me, why would you want me here?”

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he admits sheepishly, “I figured the likelyhood of me ever getting to talk to you was about as good as the kids convincing me to come to this godforsaken party.”

“Well it looks like the odds were pretty good for both things, no?”

He blinks at her. “How are you not more freaked out?”

Chrissy shrugs. “Like I said, they didn’t hurt me, and Jason’s party was lame anyway, I kinda like the vibe here better.”

Eddie rubs at his eyes with his fists.

“Well you’re welcome to stay,” Nancy pats her shoulder, “We could always use more players for team estrogen.”

Chrissy smiles and nods appreciatively.

Nancy and Robin finally leave him alone then.

“So, Princess, you want a ride back to Loch Nora?”

“I meant it, I kinda want to stay here.” Chrissy blushes. “If that’s ok?”

“More than ok,” Eddie blurts.

“Good, thanks,” she says, “Can I have some of that cider? It looks delicious.”

“It’s very strong,” he warns, offering her arm, “Come on, I’ll show you to the punch bowl milady.”

“Thank you,” she says standing and giving him a little curtsy.

“God you’re a vision,” he sighs.

“I’m surprise you can see anything with that mask on,” she giggles.

“When it comes to you, sweetheart? I only have eyes for you.”

“Get a room!” Robin shouts as they pass her in the hallway.

“Shut up, or I’ll run you over with the Bat Mobile!”

Robin sticks her tongue out.

Chrissy ends up staying, to everyone’s shock. They play another round of charades, then El convinces them to do Halloween karaoke. Chrissy is great at both activities. (Which is not shocking to Eddie in the slightest, he knew she was a wealth of talent.”

When the party comes to a crawling end, Steve ushers the kids out to the driveway where they’re picked up by their parents. He and Billy slink off to Steve’s bedroom upstairs, Nancy and Robin disappear into a guest room, and Eddie and Chrissy are left on the couch.

“I have a confession,” Chrissy says.

Eddie taps their knees together. “You were lip syncing during karaoke? I knew it!”

She giggles. “No, Eddie. That was all for real. The kidnapping though? That was fake.”

“Wh-what?!”

“The kids asked me a week ago if I would come, said it would mean a lot to you. But they wanted it to be Halloweeny.”

“So they staged a kidnapping?!”

“It was probably not the best plan,” she admits sheepishly.

“But, why? Why would you agree to come?”

“Because I’ve had a crush on you for years, and I figured it was now or never.”

“Are-are you serious? You’ve had a crush on me?”

“Uh, yeah? Since middle school, you remember the talent show?”

“How could I forget!”

She blushes deeper. “I’ve always been to shy to do anything about it. But when you’re friends asked me if I’d come, because you had a crush on me but were too shy to ask me out, I decided one of us had to be brave. And your friends seem like good kids, I knew they weren’t trying to trick me.”

“You’re something else, Cunningham.”

“I’m glad I came,” she says, beaming at him.

“Me too,” he says, and then again in his Batman voice, “me too.”

Halloween, from that night forward, goes down in Eddie’s book as the best holiday ever. Because it’s the night he finally kisses Chrissy Cunningham, and that alone negates every other horrible thing that’s ever happened on October 31st in the last eighteen years. He doesn’t miss a Halloween party ever again, and he’s not even that pissed when he has to help Wayne scrape eggs off the trailer again and again. (Ok, so, maybe he’s still pissed about that, but at least he knows he’s got a pretty girl waiting for him with a fresh batch of mulled cider for after he’s finished.)

👻👻👻👻

(Read on AO3)

[raz-b-rose]

1 Corinthians 4: 1-5 Part 1

"This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful." (v. 1-2)

That first word servants is hupéretés and it was commonly used for sailors, bellow deck rowers specifically. So in this context is means "a subordinate executing official orders and operating under direct and specific orders"

That second word, stewards is oikonomos and it means household manager. Specifically "a slave that was released from forced/legal servitude"

Now putting this together we get "Others should logically conclude that we are a subordinate of Christ, executing His direct commands and freed from our bondage to sin, and mange His household through the mysteries revealed to us by the Holy Spirit.

What Paul was telling the Corinth church here was

They were directly under Christ's commands via His word. Paul had already in chapter 3 said "stop declaring your loyalty to me and Apollos, its to Christ"

They were freed from sin! They were no longer slaves to themselves, but free to loyally follow God. As he follows up in verse 2 "Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful"

And I love that word required because it means "to search" Why use that word for required? Because we can only receive understanding of the Mysteries of God if we actively and faithfully search them out!

There is a finality to our faithfulness.

"But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you, or by any human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time., before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in the darkness and will disclose the purpose of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God." (v3-5)

As the rest of the chapter continues in verses 3-5 Paul says that they can't, let alone a human court, judge him or rather examine him, let alone himself. That it is the Lord who judges, examines or as the Greek used this word, to forensically examine. For this can mean God testing us via difficult trails.

So what this section of his letter is saying is that only God can truly discern the heart, because we deceive ourselves into thinking we aren't sinning but we are, and God "will disclose the purpose of the heart" (v5b)

God has taken into account our sinful hearts, the purpose for which we do things, before the history of this world was established and made a plan for it (Jesus) and through this refining examination for our Father we will receive His approval (cross reverence Matthew 25:23)

There is so much to take from just these five verses and how they relate to the previous chapters. You can tell Paul is building into something great because he is laying the foundation of reminding the Corinthians about who they are, who they serve, and their role in this relationship.

We can use these same reminders. The Holy Spirit helps us to understand Gods word and we are to faithfully search Him out and ask Him questions. God has accounted for our sins, but we still need to choose to repent, because He also accounted for our free will. We need to listen closely for our directions from above and execute them without hesitation. And we need to live as we are, no longer slaves to sin and death, but serving the one who bought our freedom faithfully.

[meet-me-backstage]

🜸

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night, you're considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout's local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there, the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.

However, you don't warm to him so easily - in fact, you don't warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn't hesitate to make it known, leading to a cold rejection from you.

Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.

You hate each other... but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie's bandmates with the intention of bringing you two together and harmony between the bands.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, mention of blood, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍, some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 🎸 7.3K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 🎸 bad language, mention of and consumption of alcohol and reader being kinda mean to Eddie for no reason oop.

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚 - 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝟐𝟎𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑱𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒚 (𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 - 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂)!

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 ⎈ 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ⎈ 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

Eddie had his head tucked into the shitty school magazine he'd been handed on his way into the Hawkins High cafeteria.

He didn't usually read it, but today he felt he needed a distraction - tomorrow was going to be Corroded Coffin's first ever gig... well, aside from the middle school talent show and Battle of the Bands' competitions - but they were different, events full of acts and terrible sound quality. The last time Corroded Coffin played at a Battle of the Bands the amp blew during Eddie's guitar solo, putting the entire event to an abrupt end.

There was something else though, something other than the usual nerves of a first gig - engraved and irritating his mind like a new tattoo to the skin... it was you.

He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head from the moment you gave him the eye from the stage on Friday. It had been playing on his mind with every hour that passed, he couldn’t believe that you gave him the eye - the coolest and most metal badass in Hawkins.

He’d never received attention like that and he’d come to the point of accepting that he wasn’t going to from anyone, let alone from the girl he’d been obsessing over for years.

A tray slammed on the table, making Eddie jump in his seat and causing him a mini heart attack, he dropped the magazine he was ‘reading’ onto the table, “Jesus Christ!” He squeals, looking up, only to see an aggravated Gareth standing over him, “What the hell, dude?”

Gareth grimaces, “Seriously?!” Jeff and Travis are stood behind him with their arms crossed, “We don’t see you at band practice and all you’ve got to say to us is ‘what the hell, dude’?!”

Eddie’s eyes were wide and his chest heaved, he slowed his heavy breathing and placed his hand over his heart, “You scared the hell outta me, what else was I gonna say?!”

“Gee… I don’t know, maybe an apology - an explanation?” Gareth asks sarcastically, scratching at his chin before dropping himself onto the seat with a thud diagonally from Eddie. He leans towards Eddie, giving him intense eye contact that made Eddie’s pulse pick up again, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment.

The other boys sat themselves down, Jeff next to Gareth and opposite him - they began to stare too, making Eddie writhe even more and bite at his trembling lips to try and stop himself from breaking.

Eddie felt sweat beginning to bead at his forehead from the tension of his friend’s glares, he felt like his entire head was about to explode, or his mouth out least and he couldn’t hold his words any longer.

A strained noise escaped his lips and moments later he let his hand fall and slam down into the table , “I’m sorry, m’kay,” he drawls with a small frown, his lips still twitching as they continue to stare at him, unsatisfied. Eddie rolls his eyes, “Fine - if you buttheads really have to know - I was at… the Hideout,” he exhales as he utters the last two words, his chest deflating and he stares down at his ring-clad fingers tapping a fast beat on the table.

The three boys around Eddie squint their eyes all at the same time.

“The - Hideout?” Gareth blinks with blank features.

Eddie gulps, nodding. His brown eyes were wide and he continued to keep his head down, afraid of them spotting the obvious blush on his cheeks. He felt so hot, he could only imagine how pink his entire face looked.

Jeff and Travis snorted with laughter, holding their hands over their mouths to try and cover it up and it only made Eddie more self-conscious and jittery so he dives a hand into the pack of pretzels that his Uncle Wayne had left out for him in the morning and chucks one of them in his friend’s direction, “Shut up!”

Eddie knew that he was going to have to tell them about his whereabouts last weekend, he just hadn’t exactly planned how he was going to explain. The decision to visit the dingy bar was on a complete whim on his part, it was like he’d been lovestruck and suddenly couldn’t keep himself away from the place.

“Hey - defensive much?” Jeff picks up the rogue pretzel and chucks it back at Eddie, who narrowly dodges it.

“I am not being defensive.”

“You so are.”

Gareth laughs, his eyes flickering between the two bickerers before setting his hands down with a thump onto the table, gaining him the attention of all three boys sat around him, “Defensive? More like delusional,” he flashes Eddie a knowing smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie furrows his brows, tilting his head to the side and burrowing his hand back into his packet of pretzels, ready to fireball some more of his lunch if need be.

Gareth rolls his eyes, “This is about your little lovesick puppy moment last week.”

Eddie blows a raspberry, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, “I don’t know what you’re talking about - I - went there to get more familiar with the place so my nerves won’t be so bad at our gig on Tuesday and I just - forgot… about band practice.”

“You expect us to believe that bullshit?” Gareth asks sarcastically while the other boys blink blankly and nod in agreement with Gareth. Gareth suddenly leans forward and points at Eddie, his finger brushing the ‘W.A.S.P.’ badge on the pocket of his denim vest, “You went there because of Vampire - whatever the name is now - Vamp!”

“No I did not!” Eddie squeaks.

“Oh come on - we all know you’re obsessed, you’ve been obsessed since 6th grade.”

Eddie forced a nervous laugh, memories flooding back suddenly of the moment he first saw you in middle school.

He was in the midst of stuffing his grade six history notes messily into his locker, his door was wide open and all he could see of the person beside him were their shoes, small worn black boots that thudded loudly on the floor, the sound being what caught his attention in the first place. His lips trembled, being new and already unpopular, he knew nobody other than Gareth at that point.

He not so sneakily peeked past the locker door… it was you. You were taller than him at the time and chucking some of your own notes into your locker - he spied on the decorated interior of it and one particular thing caught his eye, Black Sabbath’s logo that you’d clearly torn from a magazine.

⎈ 🎸⎈

“What are you looking at?” You ask with a harsh stare, looking down at the small boy after taking out your diary of ‘77 that had little butterfly stickers on it.

You could only see half of his face, the other half was hidden by his locker door and when he’d realised that you’d caught him his eyes, widened, massive compared to his small head and the rest of the features on it - you raise your brows at him, crossing your arms and tapping your foot. He slowly unhides himself, shutting his locker’s door carefully, “I - er - l-like Black Sabbath - too.”

You just stare for a few seconds, then roll your eyes at him and slam your locker door, muttering with a shrug of your shoulders, “Whatever.”

You leave him stood there with a rapid heartbeat that felt as if his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

⎈ 🎸⎈

Eddie remembered running to the cafeteria excitedly and jumping onto the stool opposite Gareth, immediately uttering the words ‘I spoke to a girl!’

You were always pretty distant from everybody else - it was something you did on purpose with the intention of not being noticed by anybody… or so your thirteen year old self thought… but twelve year old, buzz-cut Eddie did notice you. After the short encounter you had he noticed you on the sidelines whenever you excused yourself from any kind of drama, game, school event or club. Whenever you sneaked yourself past the likes of Derek Hagan and his basketball friends, including his younger brother, Tommy and his friends in the year below. They would all snigger at you whenever they had the chance through middle and high school - it never stopped until you took matters into your own hands and dropped out, never looking back at the school again.

Eddie was the first to notice yours and your friend’s disappearance in your senior and his junior year - he figured it was because of the bullying and felt bad about it because he was sure that if he’d approached you more then you would’ve been sat with him - friends.

But eventually you had found your own friends and he had found his. The thought of approaching you felt stupid when he figured you would probably send him away anyway, but it didn’t stop him from thinking that you were the coolest in both Hawkins middle and high combined. He decided that he’d love your antics and be your number one fan from afar.

Seeing you again at the Hideout was a chance that Eddie thought he’d never get since it seemed like you’d just vanished.

Two years later - a second chance. Take it, don’t waste it - was all that had been running round and round Eddie’s head since that night.

“Helloooooo-,” Gareth waves his hand directly in front of Eddie’s deadpan face. Eddie eventually blinks himself back to reality and pushes Gareth’s hand away, “Where were you?”

“With Vamp by any chance?” Jeff asks with a little grin.

Travis then pouts his lips, making smooching sounds, the others hysterically laugh for minutes.

“Are you guys done?” Eddie asks, his cheeks pink from embarrassment and suddenly feeling extremely conscious of his surroundings, everyone else in the cafeteria - which was unlike him, he didn’t usually care for the glares that others gave him from other tables.

Though their laughter had died down, they were still watching Eddie with amusement.

“What?”

“Did anything happen?” Jeff pipes up, usually the most quiet of the four.

Eddie looked down for a moment, fighting a small smile from making its way onto his pink lips, “She looked at me - again, y’know - like - the look. Like the one I was telling you about on Friday,” he trails off at the end of the sentence.

“And?” Jeff lifts his hands up, gesturing for Eddie to continue.

“And what?” Eddie shrugs, trying to play it cool.

Jeff rolls his eyes, snorting a small giggle, “Did anything happen? Did you talk to her?”

“I - looked back at her,” Eddie reveals, genuinely impressed with himself by straightening his back, pushing his chest forward and toothily grinning until he notices the disappointed looks that his friends are giving him, “It’s something, m’kay?”

“It’s nothing!” Gareth interjects, “You’ve gotta talk to her, dude - this is like sixth grade all over again!”

“Pfft - I tried, but everyone in there wants to talk to her. She’s like - the queen of the Hideout, whenever I got the courage to approach her someone else would swoop in so I just - sat at a booth with a bottle of cola that Keith gave me, I must’ve looked that miserable,” Eddie exhales with a laugh at the end of his ramble, “Besides - I think she’s got a thing going on with that - Rodrick guy, y’know - the one that-.”

“Got us the gig tomorrow - yeah, he’s kinda epic for doing that for us,” Gareth mutters, lowering his tone and scratching the back of his neck.

“Exactly, he is epic - and cool - funny,” Eddie sighs.

“You’re all three of those too,” Gareth states, placing his hand flat on the table in front of Eddie, “you just need to show her that you are.”

“How?”

Gareth bites his lips together for a brief second before exhaling, “I think you made a pretty good start last Friday, you made her laugh so - she thinks you’re funny at least.”

“I’m pretty sure she was laughing at me - there’s a difference. I’m not that clueless - even you should know that, Gareth, you’re the most experienced here.”

“Being dared to kiss my crush in eighth grade and running out of the room after is not what I would personally call ‘experience’,” Gareth recalls, his teeth gritting slight at the memory before he pressed the tip of his index finger against the tabletop, “My point is - if you can make a girl laugh, you’re already halfway to your destination - her heart.”

Eddie tilts his head, squinting his eyes, “you’re making this sound a lot like one of my campaigns.”

“If it helps you then maybe picture it like one of ‘em,” Gareth suggests, his voice growing with enthusiasm, earning a few nods from Jeff and Travis, “Picture it like this - Rodrick is Orcus. There’s an undead army guarding them - Orcus and er - Tiamat! Vamp is Tiamat. You’ve got to somehow get to your dragon queen by killing Orcus, slaying the undead army and defying Tiamat’s powers.”

Eddie grits his teeth before visibly deflating, rolling his hair around his index finger, “I dunno, man - that sounds pretty brutal.”

Gareth also deflates at the sound of his friend’s low tone, “C’mon Eddie - this isn’t like you. A Dungeon Master doesn’t give up on a quest just like that-,” he snaps his fingers, “Not before the battle has even started.”

It’s silent for a while. Eddie restlessly taps his fingers and bounces his legs as he thinks about the mission he’d been given to conquer - it takes a few minutes and his brain starts to ache before suddenly his heart jolts and his entire body stills, but the light behind his eyes reignites. The other boys notice it, causing them to smile and hold the table from inner excitement, they knew what was coming - a hop on the table performance from Eddie.

His lips pulled upward at the corners of his mouth into a mischievous smile, he began to lift himself up off of his seat and climbed stealthily onto the seat before jumping onto the table, almost knocking his black lunchbox and trays of lunch off of the table. Gareth, Jeff and Travis quickly hold the trays down and stare up at Eddie with grins from ear to ear as he stares back down at them.

Eddie holds his arms up, playfully aiming at tables around the cafeteria, “First, I’m gonna fireball the undead,” he jolts his arms forward as if he’s preparing for attack and shouts ‘boom - boom - boom!’, making the other boys laugh and the rest of the cafeteria stare at him with dumbfounded looks. Eddie smirks before swiftly spinning himself around and facing Gareth, “I’ve stunned them - now before the villainous Orcus can bring them back to life I sneak past the army, like this-,” he ducks and runs with light feet along the length of the table, ignoring the fact that he was practically stepping on other student’s lunch, “I’ll shield myself as I sneak past Orcus and from the poisonous clouds of Tiamat - then-,” he stamps his foot down on the table and runs further along the table until he reaches the end, “I go in for the kill - firebombing the dragon queen, she’ll rush me, but I’ll knock her back, then I’ll pound until I have her heart, killing Orcus!” He holds a hand up in the air, his chest heaving under his ‘Dio’ t-shirt.

Gareth, Jeff and Travis are in fits of giggles, but clap as Eddie jumps off of the table, ignoring others that were calling him an ‘asshole’ for his outburst. He jogs back to his friends, his hair bouncing on his shoulders and he stands behind Jeff and Travis, placing a hand on their shoulders, “It’s not gonna be easy, but I’m gonna give it a goddamn try.”

Gareth grins triumphantly at the return of his friend that he’d known since the very first day of sixth grade, the defiant, energetic and loud Eddie that he loved, “There you are. This is the Eddie that is gonna blow her mind.”

“Mhm - mhm - starting tomorrow. I’m gonna shred an almighty guitar solo, we’re gonna perform the most metal concert in all of the world. I’ll give Vamp the eye and after - I’ll - make a beeline straight for her, I’ll talk to her again - finally - hopefully without any interruptions or - mess ups - or rejection,” Eddie nods with each word, squeezing his friend’s shoulders for support as he tries to build his confidence up.

“Vamp is not gonna know what’s hit her.”

𝐓𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ⎈ 𝟐𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ⎈ 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

“Yeah - see you in ten, Elektra,” you fiddle with the cord of the telephone in your room and as you put the phone down, the cord uncoils itself from your fingers and hits your face, “Fuck!”

Like your old middle school locker at school, your room had ripped logos, band photos and your favorite photo of Eddie Van Halen stuck to your black and purple striped walls. Unlike your old middle school locker, you had Polaroids of you and the girls of Stake For My Valentine stuck to the wall too, your band logo that you designed spray painted onto fabric and hung up at the head of your bed.

You were laying on your bed on your stomach in a skirt with fishnet tights and wearing an oversized, old band t-shirt of The Runaways - who were your queens of rock ‘n’ roll from the moment you first purchased their debut album on vinyl with your pocket money as an eleven year old in ‘76.

Jumping off of the bed, you hastily grabbed your black leather jacket and climbed through your window as a way out of your childhood ‘home’.

Though you couldn’t call it a home because homes are meant to be a place of comfort, love - you didn’t feel that here. It was the reason why you were climbing out of the window and not simply walking out of the door, saying ‘goodbye’ to your mom and dad, because you’d only be met with their strictness, their disappointment in you, they’d probably go to the extent of trying to stop you from going to the Hideout again - they could never.

As far as you were concerned, the Hideout was your home and Elektra, Alyssa, Cherie, Keith, Rodrick and all of the drunks, the misfits that hung out there - they were your family.

You scraped your legs and your fishnets got caught on the rose bush that you landed next to upon dropping yourself from your window and tucking and rolling - a move you’d gotten more stealthy at over the last few years.

With a flip of the bird aimed at the house, you ran your way in the dark to your real home.

The Hideout was on the other side of the woods that separated the larger houses and what once was Starcourt Mall from the desolate side of town.

There were abandoned, unkept buildings surrounding the Hideout, along with trees and straw-like grass as far as the eye could see.

You didn’t mind the darkness, or the woods - in fact, you actually found comfort in both, especially in autumn.

The crunch of leaves under your feet, the chilling whistle of the wind blowing past you, causing goosebumps to form on your skin, the sight of the bright moon, making the silhouette of the branches of trees above you crystal clear.

Other than it being on your journey to the Hideout, it was a place you sought freedom in when you struggled to feel like you belonged anywhere, before you found that dingy bar, before you formed Stake For My Valentine, before you decided that you wanted to pursue music and before you’d even met Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa.

It had been a while since you’d sat yourself against the trunk of a tree with the intention of contemplating something that had happened the same day, or basking in silence instead of muffled shouting coming from your parents on the floor below while you locked yourself in your room.

It took time to learn to ignore it and not care - you found that just being distant, keeping to yourself and delving into the sweet sound of metal music at the Hideout as much as you could was the best way to warm your cold and empty heart. It was also a way out - long-term, you wanted nothing more than to use the little money you got from gigs to eventually be enough to buy a trailer, then you could play your guitar to your hearts content.

You were even more desperate for that trailer now, especially with the potential of Corroded whatever having access to the ‘backstage’ room that Keith provided. You, Elektra, Alyssa and Cherie had, had it to yourselves for so long - it was personalised to Stake For My Valentine, filled with your belongings and all of your music gear, it was your place to play guitar and sing… your place to learn new Iron Maiden, Dio, Van Halen and Metallica songs and guitar solos on your beloved Pink Special.

You’d no longer have that privilege if you had to share the room with another band and deep down, though you’d never show it… you were worried.

Corroded Coffin had been on your mind since the very first moment you had been introduced.

The shyness and the boyishness of them intrigued you. If Keith and Rodrick had scoped them out and decided to give them a show then they must be at least a little talented… metal - no, I decide who is metal and who isn’t.

That’s why you were making your way to the Hideout right now - to pass judgement because they couldn’t be that good, right?

You had to see it for yourself.

Besides, the curly-haired, doe-eyed brunette - Eddie Munson, had been doing the exact same to you. You’d seen him spying from the back of the room at your show last Saturday, hiding at a booth and at the back of the small crowd who had come to see you play.

Two can play at that game, you thought, now stood on the opposite side of the street from the Hideout.

You could hear loud crashes, bangs and wallops coming from the inside, it was muffled from where you were, but you knew that the music being played was the four boys that made up Corroded Coffin because you’d planned on arriving late all along.

With every step you take, the music gets louder and you could distinctly hear between each instrument… and a voice.

When you opened the rustic door that was painted black and had little chips from how old it is, the music blared past you, almost knocking you off of your feet from it’s strength.

You slowly stepped into the bar once you’d gathered your balance against the sound waves. There was a crowd of about five drunks stood in front of the stage, making you smirk, you internally laughed until…

Squinting your eyes due to the familiar fog in order to see clearly. You recognised one of the sparse crowd, it was Alyssa. She was dancing chaotically in a black and white chequered flannel, distressed black skinny jeans and her trademark, her black cowboy hat that she wore 24/7, complimenting her long dark mullet.

Out of the four of Stake For My Valentine, Alyssa is the groover and has immensely incredible rhythm when it comes to dancing - you can tell that she puts her skills of drumming into her moves.

Alyssa’s eyes were shut, one of her arms up in the air and her head banging to the music as she held her hat down with her other arm’s hand.

Traitor.

You storm your way towards her with a stomp of your feet, though you couldn’t hear the them over a loud drum solo. Once you were stood by Alyssa, who had still not noticed your presence from being so lost in the ‘music’ - if you could even call it that. You tap her shoulder harshly with your pointer finger, “Alyssa!” You continue to tap until she bats her eyelashes at you, “Alyssa, what are you doing?!”

Alyssa grins smugly in response, even after being caught red-handed. You held onto her shoulders tightly but her head continuously turns to face the stage, like the boys on the platform had her under a trance with their instruments.

Her eyes were half-lidded and she continued to bat her eyelashes, you furrow your brows as you watch her - you turn your head purely out of curiosity, realising that she was practically eye-fucking the drummer - Gareth? You quickly turn back to face her, shaking her shoulders at the same time, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What?” Alyssa shouts back before gesturing towards the band, you suddenly hear the same voice that you heard outside of the building, “Aren’t you hearing this?! They’re good!”

“You're the light of the dying sun-.”

Hearing it clearly, the voice has a high-pitched raspiness about it that you couldn’t hear outside.

“You're the dark side of the night.”

It pierced through your body suddenly, having the same effect as the music had on you when you first opened the door. You subconsciously whipped your head in the direction of the stage again, catching eyes with Eddie. His legs were spread apart and he wielded a beautiful guitar of a shiny red and black pattern - you couldn’t keep your eyes off of it, falling into a similar trance to Alyssa’s. It was as if the lines of sound waves coming from his electric guitar had wrapped themselves around your neck and you could not drag yourself away.

Your gaze drifted upwards, only to realise that he was looking right back at you - mirroring the same exact look that you’d given him last Friday, his lips twitch upward at you too.

Your facial expressions immediately harden and you snap yourself from the trance that the music had you under. You drag your eyes away from him and look to Alyssa, who had resumed dancing. You roll your eyes and slide a hand from her shoulder down her arm to her hand, grabbing it before pulling her with you away from the dance-floor.

Elektra, Cherie and Rodrick wave at you from a booth and you sigh from relief, tugging at Alyssa’s hand.

Elektra’s arm was wrapped around Cherie’s waist as Cherie leaned her head on Elektra’s shoulder.

Alyssa stood by you and Elektra waved down her little sister with her spare arm, “Murder on the dance floor, eh? You killed it, sis!” Elektra then held her arm out to low five Alyssa, who grins, slapping her sister’s hand.

You scrunch your nose at the sight, breathing in your frustration and turning your attention to Rodrick, who, as usual, had a beer in his hand. He gestures with his pointer finger for you to come over, then pats the seat beside him - you flash him a flirtatious smile and oblige, climbing into the booth and shuffle on the seat towards him, leaving a small distance between your hips.

Rodrick closes the distance, shuffling to connect your hips, he leans towards your ear and you can feel his beer-smelling, hot breath on your skin, “You look beautiful tonight, Vamp!” He shouts into your ear, making you flinch and look the other way, again, unintentionally making eye contact with Corroded Coffin’s lead singer, this time he didn’t smile back at me, he looked down at his guitar instead, pursing his lips as he seems to play even more passionately than before.

Again, you drag your eyes away, focusing on Rodrick’s breathing in your ear, “Only tonight?” You utter with sarcasm and a pout, facing him, looking deep into his brown eyes that were outlined with black eyeliner.

He laughs, shaking his head and taking a swig of his beer while subtly pressing his thigh more against yours, “You know you steal the show every night, you don’t even have to try.”

A sly grin creeps it’s way onto your lips, “Yeah, well - tonight’s show isn’t proving to be too tough to steal anyway,” you nod in the direction of the stage.

Rodrick bites his lips together, making your eyes flicker to them for a moment, “You’re really harsh on them, huh?”

You shrug your shoulders before confidently reaching for his beer, taking a sip from the exact spot that he had pressed his lips against. He watches you closely, licking his lips at the same time, even as you slide his beer back to him, “They’re a parody of metal music - it’s embarrassing, it’ll taint our-,” you gesture towards Cherie, Elektra and Alissa, who are occupied with their own conversation, “reputation as a band, I’m afraid we won’t be taken as seriously alongside - that,” you groan, letting your hand slam onto the table of the booth, “I swear, if they get a weekly deal with your dad I’m gonna- ugh- I’m gonna make their lives a living hell here.”

Rodrick raises his brows, his lips pulling up into a mischievous, but mesmerised smile, “You’re kinda hot when you get all passionate and angry, y’know that?”

You shoot him a playful glare and in response to it he sticks his tongue out, scrunching his nose.

“You’re agonisingly annoying, y’know that?” You mimic his voice, leaning closer to him.

“And you’re so into it,” he mumbles and leans closer too, your noses almost brushing, but not quite. You no longer felt the same excitement you used to when you’d be this close, even closer - everything had changed since you’d seen each other naked.

“Totally,” you whisper convincingly, but half-heartedly and as he continued to lean forward with a half-dead expression you quickly turned, looking over your shoulder for any sign of Keith, “Your dad might see us,” you whisper. You spot him stood at the side of the stage, and phew, not paying any attention to you and Rodrick, instead, he was preparing to do is usual ‘five minutes until the show is over’ warning with a tap of his wrist watch.

Rodrick leans his chin on your shoulder, “Er, Vamp? I don’t think it’s my dad that you should be worrying about right now.”

“What?!” You shout over the music, leaning your head gently onto Rodrick’s.

“Four o’clock!”

You turn your head in the direction of ‘four o’clock’, your eyes landing on the bar. You squint your eyes, only seeing the locals that usually sat there and waiting to be served, “That’s nothing I should be worrying about, aren’t you supposed to be serving them while your dad is on ‘five minute warning’ duty?”

“I meant the stage - shit, I gotta go!” Rodrick downs the rest of his beer, the froth of it now coating his lips. He gives you a kiss on the cheek before climbing over you, almost tripping and falling onto the table on the way, the running in a stagger towards the bar.

You wipe the wet kiss from your cheek, muttering ‘gross’ as you do it.

What did he mean by ‘the stage’? You ponder for a moment before slowly glancing the it’s way.

The sight made every feature on your face drop and toughen up - it felt like a hallucination, you became extremely still.

There were more people gathered in front of the stage now, unlike before.

Where had all these people come from?

They must’ve heard the music from outside, you’d never seen them before and you’d know if you had.

It was still a sparse crowd, but equal to the amount of people that would come to a Stake For My Valentine gig - just that thought alone made your skin crawl with anger.

No, this can’t be happening.

With stiff bones you lift yourself up from the booth, your eyes setting target at the four boys performing.

Rage was filling you second by second as you slowly walked in the direction of the stage. It was evident on your face, how angry you were, your lips and nose were twitching and your head was bowed on your way.

You stood at the back of the crowd, who were dancing, screaming, throwing their limbs chaotically to the music - you crossed your arms, stood still and staring up at Eddie.

He was looking Keith’s way, who was pointing at his watch - the five minute showdown. In response, to Keith, he nods before he appears to be searching the drunk crowd until… his eyes widen at the sight of you in the midst of it.

You glare at him, but he quickly turns to face his band-mates, shouting something at them. So amateur.

‘I think Vamp likes us! I can’t believe it, the plan is working so well!’

You couldn’t hear a word, and neither could the rest of the crowd - neither did they seem to care about the band’s lack of professionalism.

‘I am the king-,” he sang, his brown doe eyes catching your piercing glare. He shot you a smile, dimples peeking at the corners of his rapidly moving lips, “and this is my castle!”

Your blood was boiling within you. The smile - the lyrics - the constant staring… he’s laughing at me.

Then his eyes close at the euphoric feeling of playing the guitar on stage, he was on cloud number nine - you could tell. You watched him closely, still with harsh eyes as his ring clad fingers quickly pluck the strings of his six string, a screech of notes ring through your ears like a sweet caress - the most beautiful guitar solo you’d ever heard, and you’d heard and studied plenty.

It ranged from low to high notes and his fingers wriggled skilfully as his bottom lip tugged behind his top one, his face was scrunched up and his hips were pressed against the body of the guitar.

Slurred screams and claps sounded around you - you heard people talking amongst each other as they enjoyed Corroded Coffin’s music.

‘Where have these guys been?!’

‘This is what I call metal!’

‘Who is that?!’

You couldn’t believe your ears, are these people for real? They must be drunk to the point where they can’t actually hear if they’re enjoying this shit!

When he plucked the last note it ringed for a while, fading into the familiar sound of static from the amp.

They finished just in time for Keith’s one minute warning, you noticed, because the middle-aged man gave the band a thumbs up and a proud smile.

The room was silent for a few moments, as if they’d completely shocked the sparse crowd with their godawful music. Screams, thuds of feet and clapping soon erupts together into a loud and messy rhythm.

Your mouth was left agape, you were left at a loss at the entire situation, your mind in a state of complete disarray. They did it, Corroded Coffin had actually wooed a crowd.

The so called ‘metal’ band basked in the glory with faces that expressed disbelief and exhaustion mixed with pent up adrenaline - they huddled together, jumping and chanting before the swooshy-haired singer, in a cropped black t-shirt with a white skull design on it that matched the bandana he wore on his head and showcased his arm and chest tattoos, swung his guitar over his shoulder, kissed the neck and carefully rested it against the bass drum.

His face was glistening with sweat, his chest also heaving up and down rapidly. He faces the audience, wide-eyed and frantically searching again until eventually he locks eyes with you, pulling that same smug smile that boiled your insides for what felt like the millionth time tonight… your organs feel so hot that you are sure that they are suffering from first degree burns.

To your surprise, he jumps from the platform down onto the floor. Droplets of sweat shake off of him and his hair slaps wetly back onto his shoulders after the thud that his sneakers had made from his land.

His eyes didn’t leave you for even a millisecond as he headed in your direction with large strides. The crowd reached for him, touching his shoulders, telling him that he ‘rocks’, that they’d ‘never heard anything like you’ and asking things like ‘will you gig here again?’. These were the people that were usually clamouring for your attention, your time - why were they suddenly so desperate for his? I don’t see the appeal.

His response was to triumphantly grin while bewildered by the sudden attention, uttering a breathless ‘I hope so’ before looking straight forward, manoeuvring and dodging people with an energetic skip in his step… he was getting closer and closer and you physically felt as though you couldn’t move - his stare was dark, half-lidded but still entirely focused on…

Me? Is he? Your breath hitches and you look over your shoulder to see… no one…

“Hi,” you hear the familiar voice of the doe-eyed brunette and your heart drops as you slowly turn your head to come face to face with him. Seeing him closeup, his pupils were blown out with adrenaline or maybe just from shock at the sight of you stood in front of him - the messily applied eyeliner he wore was running in streaks from his eyes due to the sweat, “You - you came,” he speaks softly, breathlessly.

You press your lips together tightly into a straight line, trying to suppress your anger at him because you didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Keith again, especially after the ‘talk’ last Friday.

“I didn’t think you would,” he continues, bringing his hand up to fiddle with the tips of his dripping hair, “Thank you.”

You snort a small laugh, “Oh - don’t flatter yourself, Ed- Edwin - Edmund - whatever your name is-.”

“It’s Eddie-.”

“Eddie,” you repeat in a low drawl that makes his breath hitch, “If I’m honest - I forgot about your little gig and my invitation, I came because my friends and I are discussing our Halloween gig next week.”

He nods, gulping and sliding his shaking fingers through his hair now, “Nonetheless, I’m glad you came.”

You roll your eyes and huff with attitude, “I’m sure you are, Munson.”

“So you did remember half of my name, that’s a start,” he mutters the last three words to himself.

You did remember his entire name - how could you not? It had infested your entire brain over the weekend, the name infuriated you.

You notice his lips tugging upwards again into that smirk- I swear, if he looks at me like that again with that stupid look, twirling his stupid long hair around his stupid fingers I’m going to lose it - you spin on your heel and turn away from him and return to your friends.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hear behind you, along with footsteps, “Hey, wait up!” He pleads over the music now coming from the old stereo, but you continue to walk until he gently grasps your hand.

The touch sends an electric jolt through your entire arm that makes something snap within you, making you turn to face him again with raised brows, “Leave - me - alone, do you know what that means?”

Eddie tilts his head with widened brown eyes, resembling a lost puppy, he no longer wore the smug expression, “Woah woah woah - I’m struggling to pin-point exactly where this all went wrong.” He gestures dramatically between the two of you with his spare hand before letting his hand drop to his side, slapping his thigh in the process, “Can you enlighten me, please?” He asks with a sigh, absentmindedly rubbing your knuckles subtly with his clammy fingers.

Feeling the coldness of his silver rings against your fingers, your breath hitched at the realisation that he was still holding your hand, “Sure, I’ll - enlighten - you,” you mimic his desperate high pitched voice, pulling your hand away from his soothing and gentle grasp before you grimace at him, “How about the way you just loved rubbing your undeserved success in my face tonight with your annoying looks - the stupid smile - the guitar solo - need I go on?” You bring your hand up and press your index finger’s tip against his chest, poking him with every word spoken in a sassy tone.

Eddie’s face couldn’t have fallen more, he brought his hands up in surrender and let out a nervous and breathless chuckle, “Y-you’ve completely got the wrong end of the stick, sweetheart.”

“Well, how about you enlighten me?” You take a small step closer towards him, visibly making him even more nervous as he starts to breathe shakily, “And don’t you dare call me that again,” you state with another poke to his chest, your finger grazing his plectrum necklace.

“I - I just wanted to-,” he sighs, shaking his head and placing a hand on his forehead, “Jesus H. Christ - this is stupid - I just wanted to impress you, m’kay?” His pleading brown eyes search yours through the gap between his pinky and ring finger, “I wanted to - show you that I can be cool - metal or whatever and I kept on looking at you because I wanted to see if you were - having fun - impressed,” he rambles while scrunching his noise. It was evident to you that he wanted nothing more than to crawl into himself and hide forever. It almost made you laugh in his face, “I even tried to put on this - stupid eyeliner - badly because I know you like it. And I - came up with this - extravagant plan just to talk to you because you never even looked my way three years ago… I’m pretty sure you still wouldn’t even if I walked around Hawkins High with underpants on my head.”

You furrow your brows… now you were lost, “What?”

Eddie’s breathing is now staggered from his confession, his heartbeat rapid. He exhales loudly, “I-.”

“I think I owe you a congratulations, bro!” Rodrick suddenly swoops into yours and Eddie’s personal space. He wraps his arm around Eddie, rubbing his arm roughly and shooting you a questioning look, “How do you feel? Like you’re on top of the world I bet - am I right?!”

“Y-yeah, dude - like the king of the castle,” Eddie doesn’t reciprocate the embrace, but turns his head to Rodrick, forcing a grin.

Rodrick mirrors Eddie’s grin and pulls him closer into his side by the shoulder, “Speaking of ‘kings of the castle’, me and my dad think that Corroded Coffin ruled the Hideout tonight, andddd - if you want, we’re willing to give you a deal. You’ll play every Tuesday, how about that?”

Tuesday?

As Rodrick speaks he side-eyes you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, while Eddie stares at him with an excited expression, practically bouncing on the spot and about to burst, “Yes! Shit! We’ll do it - we’ll do it!” He laughs between each word, finally reciprocating Rodrick’s embrace.

Rodrick cackles, “Then the backstage room is yours just as much as it is the Valentines. We’ll see you next week - the thirty-first,” he side-eyes you with a mischievous glint in the look - it is almost like he wants to see my reaction.

Halloween night?

Rodrick squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, pointing at him with his other hand before looking at you once more with a raised brow and leaving to resume tending to the drunkards of the bar.

You were alone with Eddie again, who was elated at Rodrick and Keith’s proposition, while your world had crumbled right in front of you.

The softness of your features due to his confession before Rodrick had interrupted, had hardened.

Halloween was your favorite night of the year, but most importantly it was your gig. The same rage that had been boiling within you before had resurfaced - you’d spent so much time planning a costume for your performance, the lighting, the makeup, the set-list… now completely sabotaged and stamped on by Corroded ‘fucking’ Coffin.

“So - now that I’ve finally got your attention. Would you wanna - maybe go-,” Eddie confidently begins with a charming and dimpled grin, chuckling in between words and rubbing his hands together.

“Save it, asshole,” you spit with a harsh glare, staring right through his eyes like a laser before throwing yourself around in a spin, facing your band-mates, only to see Alissa clearly flirting with Gareth and Rodrick proposing the ‘brilliant’ deal to the rest of Corroded Coffin at the same booth.

You huff and storm your way towards the Hideout’s exit - feeling the extreme urge to leave before you could burst and get yourself a permanent ban from Keith.

Before slamming the door and removing yourself from the insufferable situation you turn to face Eddie, who was stood in the exact same spot you’d left him in, a defeated look evident on his soft features. “And I’m the queen of this castle,” you state loudly enough for him to hear and flip him the bird.

From the moment that you’re completely alone and no one can see you, a tear falls from your eye, only for you to quickly wipe it away and sniffle.

You stumble your way to the first place you can think of…

The woods.

⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ’𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺

@munsonology @eddiesluvt @pexsistolss @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @lolalanaie @big-ope-vibes @majesticjellyfishzombie @lexi--a @b-ritney @joyfulcandyrunaway @sidthedollface2 @sillypurplemurple @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @fastnights

🜸

[axel-ambassador]

Its 4 am for me and I just wanna talk about why poly shipping is so good especially in Total drama.

TD is such a unique show that is able to get away with having an extreme abundance of characters, and by extension, ships, without it coming across as overbearing. Like name a show with over 100 characters that you know the name and personality of. It's an extremely impressive feat.

That said with so many characters there are so many different shipping opportunities. Sometimes the writers give two characters really good chemistry as friends or enemies and the fans take it to the next level. Sometimes the writers completely fumble the potential they have and the fans pick it up from there. Sometimes there are rare pairs that in context make no sense but fans make them work and that's so cool.

Anyway back to my point. I personally hate needless drama, in real life and in fiction. Fiction especially because typically said drama involves character derailment and general disappointment for the fans of said characters involved.

My point is that I hate the love triangle. I hate the drama it caused. I hate how predictable it was. I hate that it was an arc spread over multiple seasons starting in season 2 and ultimately lead to nothing by the end of season 5. I hate how such a lazy trope is what defined Gwen, Duncan, and Courtney's characters for a multitude of years only for it to mean nothing, and I'm not exaggerating, nothing, by the end of All Stars; their last canonical appearances.

Duncney was destined to break up after island, that's not what I have an issue with. Duncan didn't have to frickin cheat and drag Gwen in a long with him. I love Gwuncan in concept, I really do, but the terrible execution of it which directly contributed to the down fall of both characters sours the memory and idea of the honestly awesome relationship between two of the most popular characters in the entire series.

And then All Stars rolls around and watching it as a Gwen and Courtney fan is like getting a warm embrace, two incredible characters are finally on good terms, only for that embrace to become a suplex, Sundae Muddy Sundae. So now you're on the ground feeling hurt and quite betrayed. And then the realization that it all was for nothing, Gwen and Duncan breaking up despite them getting together being such a huge plot point, Gwen and Courtney being back to square one despite a whole seasons worth of investment in their relationship, character derailment up the goddamn wazoo on all 3 ends, is like the show consecutively spitting in your face.

You wanna know how all of this frustration, pain, and shitty writing could have been avoided? Poly shipping.

Duncan and Courtney have a serious talk about their relationship, how it's incredibly toxic and they need to smooth things out if they want to progress as a couple.

Gwen over here having a bi panic as, oh no, maybe she likes Duncan more than she thought, and she's also slowly falling for his girlfriend since they've had no one but each other to talk to for half a season.

Courtney coming to terms with huh maybe she's not as straight as she thought and how Gwen calms her in a way Duncan never could.

Meanwhile Duncan realizes he likes Gwen for the opposite reasons he likes Courtney. Courtney knows how to push his buttons and he loves how much it drives him crazy. Gwen is much more down to earth but is just as chaotic and a rebel as he is.

They don't kiss in the confessional in London. They talk. Jesus Christ if there's one thing the characters in this God forsaken show don't know how to do it's fuckin communicate. Especially in relationships.

They come to the conclusion that they like each other, and they both like Courtney. So they go and talk to Courtney, and Tyler can do whatever the hell it is he planned on originally.

So there you go. What was meant to be an informative post on poly shipping turned into a rant and ultimately sloppy fix of the love triangle.

Back to my original point I was trying to make but got side tracked. Polyshipping is a multi shippers heaven. As a multi shipper, it's so much easier to make everyone date instead of just picking which ship I like more.

There are characters with great chemistry that would never be considered canon, Gwourtney, Alenoah, Gweather, Heathney, Nowen, I could go on. There's obviously an overlap in some of those.

I love Gwourtney, but Gweather and Heathney are so cool too. I don't know which one to pick. The great thing is that you don't have to pick with Gweathney. Or Gwuncaney. Or Alenowen. Or Aleheathcan.

There is so much potential with so many characters in this show that it can be challenging to figure out which dynamics you love best and which to pick from.

Not only does polyshipping make that easier but also hella more painless and comical in terms of character interactions.

Thank you for your time and I'm sorry.

[hardstraykidshours]

Staring at changbin popping, that move in maniac, and you just know the way he rolls his hips that he’s good at hitting some spots and the fact that he hangs his arm??? Deceased

good to know we all have the same reaction to that move. the amount of times i've watched that part over and over again on changbin fancams should frankly be illegal.

anywho, thank you so much for the request and i hope you like it!

❤️ abbie & courtney

-------------------

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

genre: smut, 18+ (minors dni)

length: 1.0k

warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

you can’t believe you got tickets. well, you can’t believe you got these tickets. front row, right in front of the stage. you had to discreetly ask chan to help pull some strings to score them for you, because you wanted it to be a surprise to changbin. you know he’s going to absolutely lose his mind when he realizes you are front and center to watch him perform tonight. 

the intro starts, and you start screaming along with everybody else in the crowd, the roar deafening but also completely thrilling. you’re such a tangled knot of nerves and excitement that you can practically feel your entire body shaking. you’ve seen changbin perform many, many times in the past. in fact, you’ve already seen this specific concert before. but never from such good seats. never when you’re so close you’re going to be able to see every single detail down to the beads of sweat on his forehead.

god, this is going to be so hot.

finally after what seems like an eternity of anticipation and screaming, the boys appear and start performing. you start singing along to maniac and cheering with the rest of the crowd, and you immediately know tonight is going to be absolutely unforgettable. 

changbin moves to your side of the stage, and you remind yourself to thank chan again for these tickets because holy shit. you’re about to scream chanbgin's name to get his attention but the words die in your throat when he moves into the hip rolling move. 

what. the. fuck. holy. shit. jesus. fucking. christ.

between practices, videos, and performances, you’ve seen this exact dance and that exact move like a thousand times. but, oh god, it’s never looked quite like this before. something about you being so close and the angle of how you’re looking up at him on stage while he executes the move has a wave of hot arousal rippling straight to your core. and not to mention his incredible stage presence and charisma. 

he’s practically oozing confidence as he rolls his hips to the music, and you can feel your panties growing wetter by the second as you watch. any plans of cheering or holding the sign you made for him drain from your mind as you find yourself only able to focus on one thing. changbin. your eyes stay glued to him, completely transfixed by every movement of his body as he continues performing. 

despite your silence, changbin’s eyes find you mid-song and a huge smile breaks out on his face. he flashes you a wink, and you smile in return, so happy to see how excited he is by your surprise. but your smile quickly fades into a look of pure shock and desperation when he performs that move once more, never breaking eye contact.

you thought it was bad watching him do it the first time. but with the addition of him looking down at you, a confident smirk on his face while he rolls his hips has you rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache between them.

all you can think about is dropping to your knees in front of him while he thrusts into your mouth. or being beneath him while he rolls those hips to sink his cock deep inside of you. or him bending you over his desk and rocking the way he always does that hits your g-spot so perfectly. 

fuck.

your panties are already uncomfortably wet and the concert is just getting started. how the hell are you supposed to make it through 2 more hours of this nonsense? not to mention all the time afterward you will have to wait through until you finally get to see changbin. and even then who knows if you two will actually be able to get some alone time. which you already so desperately need.

the concert continues on and with almost every song you find yourself getting more and more aroused as you watch changbin move. every shift of your body makes you aware of how absolutely soaked your panties are, and you’re trying your best not to constantly rub your thighs together in order to give yourself some sort of friction.

and it doesn’t help that you can tell changbin knows. he keeps giving you knowing smirks and throwing you flirty winks which only makes everything so much worse. you don’t think you’ve been this horny or worked up in a public place before. and there’s nothing you can do about it.

finally, changbin heads backstage to change and get ready for the next part of the performance while chan, minho, seungmin, and jeongin start their stage. you’ve never been so grateful to not see him on stage in your entire life. however, the relief is short lived when you feel your phone vibrate and find a message from changbin. 

binnie: enjoying the performance so far?😏

you’re so horny that even his flirty text messages are doing things to you.

y/n: no. it’s terrible. i hate it here.

y/n: anywho, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?

binnie: oh don’t worry, i am. if you recall, i’m excellent at multi-tasking. 😉

y/n: stop that!

binnie: but where’s the fun in that? you know i love teasing you, and having you in the front row has been absolutely perfect for that.

binnie: you do need to work on your game face though, baby. your horny is showing.

y/n: but it’s not fair, i’m dying out here.

binnie: good. then i expect you to be absolutely soaked and ready for me when i come to fuck you later.

your pussy clenches around nothing at the message, and you’re momentarily too overwhelmed by arousal to type a response. before you get a chance to say anything back, your phone buzzes with another text from him.

binnie: i gtg now, but don’t worry, just a few more minutes before you'll get to see me again. pay special attention to this next part, i'm going to add something just for you. 😏

you groan to yourself as you slip your phone back into your pocket, simultaneously not ready, but also excited for another hour of torture.