#answers: joseph

[rivalsunraveled]

make yourself comfortable. // dickjoey

It's so jarring to see Dick without the Titans and the Titans without Dick. That's the thing that's taking the longest for him to get used to, now that he's come back to life. He's glad that the team still exists, with different people coming and going as they need the home and family it provides. He's glad that his sister found it, too.

But still, it was strange not to see Dick with the Titans right away.

He's relieved to get the chance to see Dick as soon as possible, stepping inside. Somehow, he's nervous. The last time they saw each other... it's bad memories, for both of them.

Joe holds out a hand, wanting some kind of physical contact as he gets used to having a body again. Wanting to hold Dick and feel his warmth.

[searchingforserendipity25]

it's a good thing conclave didn't waste any time on making the stories about catholic orders and their in-fighting. and probably i shouldn't either because i am not informed enough about it to go on at length. pls take all of this w a grain of salt.

but i know in my heart of hearts that aldo bellini is a progressive liberal jesuit, the holy father's specialest most progressive liberal italian-american jesuit.

look at him. look at his glasses. those are the glasses of a man who did his dissertation on reinterpreting loyola through a contemporary reformist lens. academic wunderkid. has sooo much beef w the editors of american jesuit weekly. possibly the events of conclave are occurring in a better more beautiful world where aldo bellini is the editor of american jesuit weekly.

the late holy father for sure was a progressive jesuit also. vr pope francis coded. and low-key set him up as a successor. for a while, that seemed nearly a sure thing in some circles.

but there is the fact. well. the fact that everyone is tired, done and tired of jesuits, progressive or otherwise.

this among other factors meant he couldn't consider him the best option, besides whatever character judgement and uncanny machievallien prediction he came up with.

adeyemi has that benedictine swag which makes his potential election particularly seem like a breath of fresh air + reliable + lots of influence. tremblay is giving dominican drip and dominican corruption. and dominican flop. his nespresso machine? it's giving dominican also.

tedesco has to be an italian-founded order member. most hypocrital salesian of all times maybe?? this is unrelated to the fact that i was nearly enrolled in a salesian primary school and the weirdly panopticon-ish playground didn't pass the vibe check. and also because: consider tedesco rising in the ranks of an order created to help migrant workers...someone kick him in the head for me pls.

who even knows about benítez. i want to say franciscan but that might be just too on the nose. cistercian?? honestly it would work well if he is also without affiliation.

this lens does make lawrence's homily being interpreted as a campaign speech more understandable (and particularly funny).

because, as far as anyone can tell, he's fully running as an independent candidate. zero platform besides - if i fuck up i'll apologize and do better and be held accountable, which is more than any of you probably would.

and because he stands alone, he can be held accountable. he can belong to all, and not one faction only. as far as anyone can tell, he's burning bridges with bellini and rocking the status quo.

he is speaking to/from a place of frustration with institutional inertia and factionalism, he is using his position as dean to bravely promote a platform for internal change in the curia, he is offering doubt as an alternative to certainty, he is pulling an absolute wildcard move.

pity he didn't mean it.

pity the the only order lawrence is interested in joining is the most hardcore discalced carmelite experience possible.

you know how some people look into luxurious real estate listings like it's porn? that's lawrence w tiny monasteries. the sort of minuscule organization with not enough people for management to be necessary. too small for politics. as close to erasure as you can get in this world: no need to be useful.

serving god by existing only to meditate on him. a narrow slant of a life, at that. barely taking up space, barely casting a shadow.

his favorite is a decrepit wreck of a place in the middle of southern spain, nowhere. no wifi no speaking aloud no possessions. no shoes no food. no nothing, only prayer. and a big big sky overhead.

maybe that will fix his issues with reaching god. if that doesn't work he'll probably just wander into the tabernas desert and become an hermit. works for some people, supposedly; plenty of order founders seem to believe so, anyway.

[jeonseoguu]

jonathan lives au but he's just an immortal talking disembodied head hanging from joseph's belt giving him advice like Mimir from god of war

he doesnt always listen

this is genuinely the funniest idea ever

[kabuki-writes]

Since the emperors canonically have mommy issues. What do you think if their dear empress gets pregnant??? 👀👀👀

First of all: Hell yes! THOSE EMPERORS HAVE SERIOUS MOMMY ISSUES! Like holy Jupiter!

I mean we don't really know what happened to their mother according to GII, but since we get a hint on their father being violent towards his children and the mother not being present in the movie, i personally have the headcanon that she either died in childbed or during the twin's early youth. A lot of Roman Emperors and Generals took their sons with them on war campaigns, to train them in the ways of military - a good example for this is Caligula, who accompanied his father Germanicus in Germania and got the name "Caligula" (latin for "tiny soldier boots") from the Legionaries. Given that Septimius Severus was a military man himself, i could imagine him taking Geta and Caracalla with him. And that meant quite a rough childhood for them, especially for Caracalla, whom i headcanon to be the "least favorite son" due to him being mentally ill. So the twins don't really know motherly love or someone, who deeply cares for them in a way that a mother would do - something they will seek in one way or another later in life.

Before i digress too quickly.. what do i think about them being confronted by the Empress' pregnancy? First of all, i will not spoiler anything for the fic, so this is my general headcanon only:

I think Geta would be very overwhelmed at first, but since i headcanon a breeding kink for that man, he will quickly be super happy about the news and do ANYTHING to pamper and protect his Empress. And i think that he would be a good father actually. I mean, he kinda had to protect his twin brother throughout their youth and he did it with brotherly love. He had witnessed firsthand the terrible nature of his own father and therefore i would not say that he traps into the same personality. Maybe a child would even ground him a little bit more?

With Caracalla... oof. He would be super excited of the news, always asking about the pregnancy as well as he would advise all the servants to care about the Empress 24/7. But let's face it, this man is very mentally unstable, and speaking realistically here, he is not going to be the best father material. Not because he would get agressive towards his child or something, but because he is kind of a child himself. He would kinda care for a baby the same way he would for Dondus, but that is a monkey! Also he would quickly lose his patience or be bored by the way that a baby is not able to do much stuff, which results in him giving it into the hands of handmaidens very quickly. Also he NEEDS attention all the time, having a baby around that needs the Empress' full attention, it could end up in him getting frustrated about this as well.

[ask-jotaro-kujo]

Have any of the other crusaders met Jolyne? If so, how'd they react?

It's been a while since I've contacted them.

[fyeaheddiemunson]

*sound on*

[swearingcactus]

far cry is a mid ubisoft game but it's less about shooting and grenade launching and fighting for your life with a rebellious group in the middle of nowhere where help will not come for you and more about: "There was a time I would do anything for my sister, I mean the first time I ever killed was for my sister. Not enough for her," and it's also more about "Women can say that they love you in the moment, and really mean it. While men can only love in hindsight, when too much distance has built up." and it's also more about "John was not perfect. Sometimes he was not even good. But he was my brother." and it's also more about "But we would still talk every single night. Until they took his tongue." and how each instance of this type of love that was lost twisted each villain further and further into something unrecognizable and anw ubisoft lost the plot

[justmeinadaze]

Hey could you write a fic with a chubby plus size reader with Gator Tillman and Michael (Hoard) plzzzz

As you wish... 😘

Push & Pull (GatorXMichaelX Plus Size Y/N)

Warning: Plus size Fem Y/N, Sub/Dom dynamics, degrading (whore, slut), bondage (handcuffs), praise, light spanking, dirty talk, jealous, possessive (kinda toxic) boys, aftercare with a fluffy ending (I guess lol)

Word Count: 1710

Your wide lust filled eyes shifted between both their angry frames as Gator and Michael towered over you while you remained bound with your hands behind your back on your knees.

You had known both men for years but you wouldn���t exactly call them friends which was part of the reason you agreed to this causal relationship the three of you found yourselves in occasionally. 

One drunk night, flirty glances, and a few orgasms in the back of Gator’s cruiser led to an understanding that you were semi friends with all the benefits. 

You three barely even spoke when you met up but you picked up little tidbits from the dirty talk during. In your small town, the officer loved having the power to wield his badge wherever he wished but within his own home however struggled with any kind of control. When he fucked you, he always had you pinned in some way. Whether it be holding your thick wrists above your head or positioning you on your stomach so he could lay his muscular, lean frame on top of your curvy, plump figure as he roughly pounded his hips into yours. 

“You like that don’t you, little slut. You don’t touch me. I control you. You cum because I allow it. I could fill you up and leave you a needy mess. Fuck, baby. So fucking pathetic aren’t you?”

Michael was slightly the opposite in the sense that he could still be forceful and rough but it leaned more towards passionate than anything else. His thick gorgeous hands would constantly roam your body until he was close to his release, clinging to you as if you would disappear. 

“Mmph—fuck. That’s it, love. So fucking beautiful… I’m gonna fill this pussy cause I know she needs it, yeah. Have me leaking out of you as you struggle to walk…feelin’ me for weeks…”

You love it; loved the push and pull of your dynamic with them. Anytime they needed you, you were there whether it be in the middle of a workday or 2 am, you opened yourself willing for them and thanked them for the pleasure. 

There were no rules on seeing other people. Hell, you saw them with women all the time and said nothing. So, when Gator yanked you out of your dates car after pulling him over, you were completely taken off guard. Even more so when he handcuffed you and brought you to Michael’s house instead of the police station. 

As soon as he dragged you in, he tossed you onto the floor where you found yourself now. 

“What were they doing when you found ‘em?”

“Driving. As soon as they left her house, I pulled them over. You think I’d let him get very far with her in the car?”

“Wh-what’s going on?”

“Wh-wh-what’s going on?”, Gator mocked. “Why didn’t you say you were going on a fucking date? Didn’t think we’d catch you?”

“No? I didn’t think about it. We didn’t set that rule—”

The officer roughly took hold of your bicep and tugged you to your feet before shoving you against the wall where both men crowded your space. 

“Look at the little whore here. Really went all out with the tight fucking dress that shows off her tits.”

“And the overwhelmin’ smell of perfume.”, Michael added as his nose pressed to your neck. “Or is that your cunt I’m smellin’?”

Pushing open your legs, his hands roughly slipped under the damp silk of your panties and his eyes widen playfully as he glided his fingers between your folds. 

“Oh yeah. Little girl is so wet.”

Gator’s own fingers took hold of your cheeks, tilting your head to face him. 

“Is that because of us or that pathetic boy who picked you up tonight?”

“You.”

A firm palm slapped your face makes Michael chuckle as he crumbled the bottom of your dress to lift it higher up your curvy frame as his thick digits pressed into your tight entrance. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.”

“I’m not. I p-promise—fuck—I’m not.”

“Then why the fuck were you with that asshole?!” When you took too long to answer, he smacked you again and his friend smirked as he felt your pussy clench at the action. “Answer me!”

“He asked!”

“Oh? Is that all it fucking takes, you little whore.”, Gator growled as he gripped your hair and walked you to his bed where he threw you on to your back. 

Michael climbed onto the mattress above you and yanked off your dress while the officer ripped apart your panties leaving you exposed for both men. 

“You want to act like a little slut, baby, then we can treat you like a fucking slut.” After tossing his vest and gear to the side, you listened as Gator messed with his belt buckle and shimmied his pants to his ankles before grabbing your chunky thighs in his massive hands to pull you closer to him. 

The obscene sound of him spitting into your cunt fills the room and you moan loudly as he aggressively guides his cock inside of you setting a brutal pace.

“Open.”, Michael commands as he taps your lips with his own dick and you oblige as the salty taste of his precum hits your tongue.

“Fuck—look at her. That’s right…take our cocks like a…good…little…whore!”, Gator growled, slamming his length deep inside you between every word causing your eyes to roll as the other boy does little thrusts of his own as he slides effortlessly along your flat tongue. “Do y-you think he can take care of you as well as we have?!”

When you try to shake your head, Michael’s fingers cling to your hair as both boy’s seem to match frequency, pumping into you at the same time causing you to clench and choke over them both. 

“Good—good girl.”

“You’re ours. Do you understand?” The time between the other man pulling out and Gator’s patience is short as he grips your chubby cheeks roughly between his fingers as his hips roughly pound into yours. “I said do you understand?! When I ask you something you fucking answer, little girl.”

“Y-Yes, Sir. I-I understand…oh—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare cum yet. We’re in charge of you and we decide when you get to cum.”

“Please…”, you whimper, feeling his stern eyes scan over your face as you struggle to control the need to let go. “I’m sorry.”

“Cum, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock when you do.”, the officer whispers as his upper half falls flat on top of you.

You do as he asks, now with permission, and your body trembles underneath him as you come undone. Palms splayed out above your head, he rolls his hips till you feel them sputter and his spend warm your insides. 

You wait patiently for it…the pull that follows the push. 

After Gator tenderly kisses your cheek, he moves out of the way to allow Michael to maneuver you however he wished. Once you both were further up the mattress, he clung to your back and spun you around till you were on top of him, straddling his waist. 

Lifting your body up with your knees, he held his shaft for you as you gradually sunk down onto his length. 

“Mmph, fuck.”, Michael groans as he balances his palms on your hips to help guide you as you steadily begin to bounce. “Fuck, you feel so good, babe. Why would you even want someone else?”

“I-I-I don’t.”

A palm spanked your behind making you wince and on impulse, you picked up your pace. 

“Liar.”, Gator scolds.

Emphatically, you shake your head as you feel the coil begin to wind once more within your belly. 

“You never—mmph—never…”

“Never what, love. Tell us.”

“You never…t-truly m-make me…yours.”

Falling into the nook between his neck and shoulder, you inhaled the man’s cologne and cigarette smell as his hold on your waist tightened and he thrust up into you as you groan in his ear. 

Michael overwhelmed your senses as he pumped his cock firmly inside you at a rigorous pace.

“P-Please, baby, fuck.”

“Yeah? Cum for me, sweetheart.” Holding you tightly to his chest, a string of ahs leave your lips as the coil snaps and your pussy quivers around him. “Fuck, pretty girl. That’s it.”

Continuing to whisper small praises, his grunts of pleasure soon follow as his release spills inside of you. 

As soon as you feel the metal fall away from your wrists, you shakily push up onto your knees as Michael adjusts himself to a sitting position. 

“Jesus, Gator. I fuckin’ told ya we need to stop using your deputy issued cuffs.”, he huffs in annoyance as he takes hold of your wrist and displays the little indents in your skin. 

“She’s fine.”, he replies lightheartedly as he takes your hand and guides you to the shower. 

Once you’re clean and in one of Michael’s large tank tops, Gator places you between them before quickly checking his phone to make sure no one on the force had called or needed him. 

“I see you with girls to.”, you blurt causing them both to glance your way. “I assumed it would be ok to go out on a date because…you’re also seeing other people.”

The officer blinks as he sighs, placing one of his arms behind his head.

“My dad schedules dates for me. ‘Suitable women to start a family with’ he says.”, the man growls as he rolls his eyes. “I fucking hate it. They are so goddamn boring.”

“Same, kinda. Michelle thinks I need ta settle down.”, Michael adds as he turns to face you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Why didn’t you?”, the man countered making you smile. “We’re allowed to be shy, love, but…we do like you.”

“A lot.”, Gator confirms. “We weren’t sure you would want to even be seen with assholes like us.”

“Speak for yourself, mate.”

You giggle at their banter as both men smile at the sound. Scooting towards the officer, you rest your head on his chest as you tug Michael’s arm around your waist. 

“I don’t mind being seen with asshole’s like you.”

##########

Gator Masterlist/Buy me a Ko-fi! ☕

This is my first Michael story so I dont have a masterlist for him :P

[tiger-balm]

"what birth year do you consider old?"

[rivalsunraveled]

❛ i love it when the light sits on you just right. ❜ // dickjoey

Morning sunlight dances on blond girls as they bounce gently with his movements. Joey turns, looking up from the canvas. Realizing that he's stayed up all night by mistake working on this painting. His gaze flutters bashfully away, a small smile on his lips.

Gold paint has gotten onto his jaw, which glitters softly, a sheen over the flecks of other colors that have gotten on him over the course of painting.

He cleans off his paintbrush and sets it down to sign. "Funny, I'm usually the one to say that." Commenting on the light as he poses his partners for portraits, not used to being on the other end of being seen as art.

[cuteandhughesy]

i’d LOVE to see you write “just sit down and let me pamper you” with joseph woll

prompt no.14: “just sit down and let me pamper you”

you’ve always loved being, for lack of a better term, a girl. fresh blow outs and velcro rollers. summer fridays lipgloss and planning outfits days in advance. choosing nail designs, watching rom coms, anx everything showers. also called pampering yourself.

and that’s not to say if you do those things you’re automatically girl, as well as if you don’t do those things, doesn’t mean you’re not a girl. but there’s just something that feels so relaxing and feminine about doing your skin care routine that you’re not sure what else to call it.

before joseph met you, he didn’t have a skin care routine. hell, most men don’t. he’d scrub his face with either shampoo or body wash in the shower and call it a day. so a few months into dating, just at the point where sleepovers became common, he found you in your bathroom before bed, sleeves rolled up and little towel bracelets around your dainty wrists.

your face was slathered in pre-cleanse, giving you that oily, wet look as you quirked a brow through the mirror in joseph’s direction. “you okay?”

he’s leanings against the doorframe, looking at you so curiously. his eyes move over your skin, the way your makeup is melting off, and then down to your bathroom counter. there’s so much skincare.

obviously he’s been in your bathroom before, but he’s never really looked at what you keep on your shelves and in your drawers. it’s rather intriguing—the lineup of products that you’ve set out in order of usage. joseph meets your gaze through the mirror, “what does that do? like the stuff on your face.”

“it’s called a pre-cleanse,” you say, wetting your hands and beginning to massage the cleanser into your skin. “it’s the first cleanser. to get off my makeup before the gel cleanser.”

“there’s multiple cleansers?”

you hum before leaning over the sink, cupping your hands under the tap and then splashing it over your face. you repeat that a few times.

curiosity gets the best of him and joseph walks further into your cluttered bathroom, moving right up beside you. he picks up one of the products. seaweed mask?

you rise back to your full height and jump in surprise when you spot your boyfriend, much closer than when you last saw him. he doesn’t even noticed you though, too busy switching out the mask in his hand for a milk toner, which he inspects in detail. “you use all of this? at once?”

“not at once,” you tell him, gently slapping his hand as he tries to grab your gel cleanser. you squirt some into your palm, and then put the bottle back down. joseph immediately grabs it, pops it open and sniffs. you giggle, emulsifying the product in your hands, “I just use the basic stuff everyday, and then if there’s something I need to focus on, i’ll incorporate certain products.”

“focus on?” he trails off, waiting for you to elaborate.

“like,” you start, washing your face, “if i’m breaking out. or if my skin is really dehydrated i’ll use more hydrating products.”

“oh,” he chimes, picking up one of the hydrating masks you must be referring to.

you wash the cleanser off your face before continuing. “that mask would be really good for you joe, with the ice and sweat and all that stuff.”

then it’s like you just found some kind of great discovery, eyes wild and bright as you spin half way around to look at your boyfriend. your hands, still wet, clap together, and you’re practically jumping on your feet. “oh my god, can I put it on you?”

you look so cute and so enamoured by the idea of putting a light blue face mask on him, all clean, rosy skin and a froggy headband pulling your hair back, that joe almost doesn’t want to say no. he sighs, tired from afternoon practice and not much sleep the night before. “I don’t think so, baby, but thanks.”

he pats your butt affectionately before making a move to leave your cluttered bathroom. but you’re not having that. you grab his arms, pulling him back towards you. “please,” you pout, “it’ll feel so good and your skin will thank you.”

he laughs, kissing your pout. “my skin is fine.”

you quirk a brow, “says who?”

his mouth opens, and he scoffs in amusement. “did you just diss on me?”

“just...sit down and let me pamper you” you grumble.

joseph sighs, and by the look he gives you, you already know your answer. and the answer is yes. you gleam, guiding him over to your closed role it seat and plopping him down.

“okay,” you start cheerfully, “do you want a cat headband, or a cow headband?”

“cat obviously.”

—

(not edited)

[brainddeadd]

Imagine telling Joseph woll you’re pregnant, then finding out it’s more than one.

Joseph had always been a steady presence in your life—calm, reliable, unwavering. But right now, as he stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, his blue eyes were anything but steady. They were wide, flickering between your face and the test as if he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.

“You’re—” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded, suddenly nervous. “Yeah.”

For a second, he just stood there, completely still. Then, in an instant, he surged forward, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off the ground in a breath-stealing hug.

“Oh my god,” he murmured against your hair. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

You laughed, clinging to him. “Yeah, Joey. We’re gonna have a baby.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands framing your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “And I love them so much already.”

— A Few Weeks Later —

“Alright,” the ultrasound tech said, moving the probe over your belly as you and Joseph watched the screen with nervous excitement. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

The grainy black-and-white image flickered to life, and within seconds, the tech let out a little laugh.

“Oh! Looks like you’ve got more than one in there.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

Joseph, who had been gripping your hand the entire time, stiffened beside you. “More than one?” he echoed, voice slightly higher than usual.

The tech nodded, grinning. “Congratulations—you’re having twins!”

For a moment, silence. Then, Joseph let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a breathless curse. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, his grip on your hand tightening.

“Twins,” he mumbled, like he was trying to convince himself it was real. Then, lifting his head, he turned to you, his expression a mixture of awe, terror, and overwhelming love. “Babe, we’re having two babies.”

You nodded, feeling your own emotions catch up to you. “Yeah. Two.”

Joseph exhaled a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Holy shit.” Then he looked back at the screen, his eyes softening as he saw the two tiny heartbeats flickering on the monitor.

He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Guess we’re gonna need a bigger house.”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Guess so.”

And as overwhelming as it was, seeing Joseph—your rock, your partner, your love—look at that screen with nothing but devotion in his eyes, you knew you’d figure it out together.

[queenofthekings]

and also!! can I request, from this list, with Eddie:

13. “I didn’t like you at first because I found you way too fucking attractive.” “That makes no sense.”

🫶🫶

𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Summary: You and Eddie have a complicated relationship to say the least; one second you're all over each other, and the next you can't stand to be in the same room as each other. And all you want are answers.

Author's note: I'm aware I don't go here anymore but I'm tryna get my drafts/WIPs cleared so enjoy! The title comes from the Razorlight song of the same name. I'm so sorry this took forever but I hope it was worth the wait! I wrote the majority of this in about an hour so I apologise if it's bad.

CW: 18+, swearing, sex references, smoking, talks of drug use and dealing, drinking, drunk Eddie, Eddie's kind of an ass in this.

Word count: 1k

Tagging: @usergeta @quinnigallagherjones @loserboysandlithium @littlexdeaths

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

From the moment Eddie Munson waltzed his way into your life, he had you wrapped around his finger. You’d fallen for him hook, line and sinker. The problem? He absolutely hated your presence. At least, you were sure he did. It felt like one moment, he was all over you and calling you his. Then the next, he avoided you like the plague and would laugh and sneer at you in the hallways.

It was infuriating to you.

All you wanted was to spend all your time with Eddie and actually get to the bottom of what his problem was. But anytime you tried, he was his dick self and would laugh you off. Then at any parties you’d attend, he’d pull you into a dark corner and completely rock your world with his mouth and fingers.

You just wanted answers, answers you knew you’d never get so you just accepted it. You had no choice but to accept it.

At one of the endless parties both of you attended, you spotted him across the room, trying to not be obvious that he was doing a deal with some drunk classmate, but you always knew what he was up to, you knew him like the back of your hand and sadly, he could say the same for you.

Taking a long drink of your punch, you plucked up the courage to go over to him, being careful not to bump into anyone on your way. “Bit early to deal, is it not, Munson?”

Eddie jumped at the sound of your voice, a hand going over his heart as the other almost dropped the roll of dollars he’d just been handed. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, don’t creep up on me like that.”

You couldn’t help but bark out a laugh as you playfully hit his arm. “I didn’t realise you were that much of a scaredy cat.”

“Other than scaring me to death, was there anything you actually wanted?”

“I wanted to talk about us,” you answered, folding your arms over your chest.

Eddie looked at you as if you’d just spoken in Japanese to him, the cogs in his head slowly turning but he still had no real idea what you were getting at. “What do you mean “us”? There is no “us” to talk about. I’m not fuckin’ sober enough for this conversation.”

Then he stormed off, making a point to hit your shoulder with his arm as he left, the force almost knocking you to the floor. Rubbing your arm, you shrugged off the embarrassment you felt and muttered a “dick” before you stormed outside.

Walking around the various drunk couples making out or the various obviously high out of their minds partygoers, you found an empty spot and set up camp for the night. Setting your drink down in between your legs, you grabbed your pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit one up.

You would’ve tried to socialise and potentially get blackout drunk like everyone else, but you just weren’t feeling it, and was even debating on going home after that encounter with Eddie. But you were stubborn and refused to let him win, you’d at least stay until you’d ran out of cigarettes.

Not even an hour later, a loud crash was heard inside followed by a loud holler of your name. Sighing heavily, you turned around to see Eddie grinning like the cat that ate the canary stumbling his way towards you, an armful of beers with him.

Sitting down next to you with a loud “oof”, he offered you a can before struggling to open yours. Sighing, you took it from him to open it before handing it back. “Why are you even here, Eddie?”

“What? Am I not allowed to see my girl whenever I want?” He grinned, nudging your arm with his elbow before taking a long drink of beer.

“I’m not your girl, Munson. You’ve made that extremely clear,” you grumbled, opening your can and pouring the contents into the cup. “If you’re here to talk about our non-existent “us”, I’m not in the mood for it.”

Even through his drunken state, Eddie could tell that you were upset and somewhere in his brain he knew it was his fault, that and nothing he said would make it up to you. But he wasn’t the type to even try to make it up to anyone.

Noticing his silence, you spoke up again. “You don’t even like me, romantically or otherwise so why are you even trying?”

Eddie shook his head, leaning into you almost to tell you a secret. “I didn’t like you at first because I found you way too fucking attractive.”

Now it was your turn to look like Eddie was speaking Japanese to you. Mostly because what he said made absolutely no sense. “That makes no fuckin’ sense.”

“Well, it makes sense to me, princess,” Eddie smiled, drinking more of his beer.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you downed the contents of your cup. “You’re so fucking confusing, you know that? You literally drive me fucking insane.”

“It’s all part of the Munson charm, babydoll.”

Licking your lips, you shoved your cigarettes into your jacket pocket and stood up, moving to stand directly in front of him. “If you weren’t drunk off your head, I’d offer to go upstairs and make everyone hate us.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide as he frantically got to his feet, the sudden motion causing him to fall directly onto you, but thankfully you caught him just as he was about to crush you. “I can sober up, I swear.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you steadied him. “You’re such a dork, and it’s not happening tonight. Not in a million years, call me tomorrow night when you’re sober and then we’ll talk,” you patted his shoulder before making your way inside.

The next night, you were surprised by getting a call from the man himself; informing you that his trailer would be empty for the night and invited you over. Twirling the phone cord around your finger, a sly smirk came across your lips. “Come and get me,” you replied before hanging up.

You weren’t exactly going to play easy on him, not for a second.

[seatnights]

Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?

i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.

are u ready for this?

authors you SHOULD support:

oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories

OK SO

here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.

obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!

now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:

DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!

they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.

thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!

-🤍🌻🌱

[bumb-lesy]

If I had a nickel everytime Joseph Quinn wore gaudy rings I'd have two nickels, which isn't much but it's weird it happened twice

[artist-issues]

When it comes to using media to preach the gospel, how do you think a Christian should handle creating their own media? We have great examples! Lewis was more direct with narnia, while LOTR was indirect but still riddled with biblical imagery. Where should christians stand when it comes to creating their own stories and including the biblical narrative? I have my own world build and I tend to swing more Lewis when it comes to biblical allegory- but I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea!

I think this falls under “according to your personal conviction.”

I’m inclined to say, “Lewis did it right and Tolkien did it wrong,” because look at the legacy. Only people who are willfully media-illiterate, to the most obtuse degree, read Chronicles of Narnia and come away with anything but the Christian Gospel. It’s inseparable from that. And bravo, C.S. Lewis, for that. But look at Lord of The Rings. It is not remembered in the eye of the culture for having any connection to God, or religion. It’s remembered for being a great—possibly “the greatest,”—fantasy story.

Narnia gets Christian folk songs written about it, gets used as excerpts in sermons, is a lifelong staple in Christian family homes, gets a movie that has a fully-Christian-artist-produced-album attached to it, gets angry atheists to write answering-hate-fantasy series about it because they hate Christianity and Narnia can’t be separated from the Gospel.

Lord of the Rings gets Dungeons & Dragons and an original spin-off about women empowerment and identifying with your race.

Now let’s compare that with the model of how a Christian is supposed to be a Christian.

”Therefore do not fear them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be revealed, and hidden that will not be known. 27 What I tell you in the darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered in your ear, proclaim upon the housetops.” Matthew 10:26-27

16 “Now no one after lighting a lamp covers it with a container or puts it under a bed, but he puts it on a lampstand, so that those who come in may see the light. 17 For nothing is hidden that will not become evident, nor anything secret that will not be known and come to light.18 So beware how you listen, for whoever has, to him more shall be given; and whoever does not have, even what he thinks he has shall be taken away from him.” Luke 8:16-18

Which I don’t fully understand, but my loose grasp of it is: the teller has a responsibility to be clear and to SAY IT, especially about The Most Important Message Ever. But also, the listener has a responsibility in how they listen.

So like. People could get Gospel-imagery and therefore be led to the clear Gospel from Lord of the Rings. They could. AND if they read those books and aren’t careful about “how they listen,” they’ll come up with a different meaning or they’ll miss the Gospel imagery inside that could’ve done them good. And missing what could’ve done them good is, to that extent, their fault.

But. I think you could argue that also, to some extent, Tolkien’s fault. To some—not all—extent. Because Tolkien was nice and vocal about how he didn’t want this story to be treated as an allegory or for anyone to get a message out of it. And as a Christian, that is a terrible thing for him to say.

But he also said, ”I am a Christian and of course what I write will be from that essential viewpoint” As if the Christianity in his fiction was inherent because of his worldview. And also said, contrariwise, that Lord of the Rings was “a fundamentally religious and Catholic work.”

Besides, much of the rest of his life was lived as a big loud screaming lighthouse for what he thought was the Gospel—(we can talk about the fact that he was Catholic somewhere else)—even if it wasn’t loud-and-screaming in his fantasy epic.

Now factor in the fact that Tolkien was a philologist and an expert on Old English literature, particularly fictional works. This is important because it means that when he read a story, he read it in a completely different and deeper language than the rest of us understand. He got the meaning of Beowulf in a way that none of us ever will, and he probably understood the way it was intended to be understood better than anyone else.

It’s like he spoke a language that the rest of us can only catch a few words of. And then he wrote his book in that language. In that language, his book is probably intensely stupidly clear about God. But we don’t speak it. So is that his fault? That’s the question.

Because the main, big question is, “Should you be unmistakably clear about the Gospel or just sprinkle it in intuitively, accidentally, because you’re a Christian so it’ll leak in there somewhere?”

Or, like my favorite songwriter Tyler Joseph says, “which theory works/ yelling on the street corner or cleverly masking your words?”

I think the answer is “yes, be intentional and be clear, don’t do it ‘by accident.’”

But the thing is, for fallible humans divided and confused by the Fall…there’s a limit to how clear we can be, even with people we’re being perfectly plain with. There’s no such thing as “unmistakable,” because nobody is perfect at communicating, and even when they’re very good at it, everybody’s ability to understand is clouded. It’s like they have vision that is impeded by smudges of ‘prejudice’ and ‘biased personal experience’ and ‘propensity to only hear what they want to hear.’ We don’t speak the same language.

So I guess my final answer would be, “Be as clear as you know how to be, and be intentional, to make your whole life say the Gospel.”

When people interview or ask you about your story, tell them in no uncertain terms that it’s about the Gospel. If they don’t get it, explain it to them. Spell it out. Then do better on your story next time so they don’t have to ask you—or assume that it’s a “them” problem and “this kind of person needs me to explain it, even if there’s no lack of clarity in my work.”

Meanwhile, live your whole life as an example of the Gospel in the way you work hard and treat others. Open your MOUTH and tell your testimony of how Christ saved you to people, in person, whenever you get the chance.

The point is to put God’s glory on display. You want to do that with every aspect of your life and every facet of your capabilities. So you can do it with symbolism in a story, but you better also do it with how you answer interview questions or write an author-synopsis of who you are as a person on the back cover, and you better also do it with how you treat someone in traffic, and you better also do it with how you open your mouth and tell your co-worker what you believe about God.

As long as your heart is to put God’s glory on display—over being successful, over building your talent and skill, over being popular, over having an audience—I think you’ll be doing the right thing. But how you do it is open to a little bit of interpretation, because different levels of communication hit different levels of understanding. So be super symbolic and imagery-vague, or be very one-to-one and allegorical—but with everything you do, do it to point to God in no uncertain terms and with your whole heart.