#good omens x grease

[beautifully-ru1ned]

Imagine if Aziraphale really regrets going to heaven, forgets all about the second coming, and rocks back up on Earth to win Crowley back, but he's all leather and grunge now. And then Crowley is all light taupe suits and dyed his hair blonde. A proper Grease moment. Then they fly off to Alpha Centauri in the Bentley.

[graysonsthings]

OMG I NEED FEMME PRESENTING AZIRACROW RIGHT NOW. CAN WE HAVE THEM LIKE SANDY IN GREASE?!

[demontobee]

Aziraphale in S3:

Crowley:

... am I right ?!?

[btsydtrash]

Daydream

Childhood sweethearts Hoseok x YN

(Author's note: This ended nicely however I could be tempted to write additons to it. I initially wanted this to be a sweethearts-to-enemies story but I like how it feels at this point. Also, this is my debut project to get back into writing lol. Please, don't kill me for making a whole new one-shot, but I wanted to grease my wheels again.)

In this story, Hoseok and YN are minors so there's no sexual content at all(!!) but they do have a lil chaste kissy kiss. Maybe I could do a time-skip for when they're in college or whatever, but that's only if ya'll want it lol!

Summer, 2004

“Hey, you know you aren’t supposed to do it that way, right?”

Hoseok glances up, eyes naturally squinting as the sun shines in his eyes. He puts up his hands, sticky with ice-cream from his snack, to shield his eyes. In front of him stands an equally-sticky girl. Her cheeks are covered in green ice-cream and her t-shirt has some melted chocolate all over the front. She’s missing a front tooth, clear from where she’s smiling brightly at him, and she seems a little sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead in some places. Hoseok understands - it’s July, dead in the middle of summer time in Gwangju. It might as well be hell on Earth. 

Hoseok tilts his head to the side and his expression must show confusion as the girl scoffs. “That!”

She gestures to the sandcastle he was making in the sandbox.

“It’s a castle.” He murmurs.

She nods. “I know, I’m not a dummy.”

“So, what?”

She sighs and crouches down. “The poles aren’t high enough and the moat shouldn’t be this way.”

“But it’s my castle,” he says, pouting. “I want it to look like this.”

He’s lying, of course. He isn’t good with his hands but the girl teasing about his castle is making his upset. Who does she think she is?

The girl takes a second to look at his expression before she smiles, and it doesn’t hold any malice in it - only amusement. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

His cheeks burn, and it has nothing to do with the sun this time.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, moving to stand. “Do what you want.”

He moves to leave, no longer wanting to be around this stranger. He scans the playground to look for his dad, but he can’t spot him. No matter, he thinks. I’ll just find my own way home, like usual.

A hand on his wrist stalls his movements. “Hey, don’t go.”

He looks back at the girl and she looks chastised. She continues, “Shall we do it together? Your style and my style mixed together?”

He thinks for a moment before he nods, tentatively. “Okay.”

And that was the beginning.

Sometimes Hoseok thinks back to that day, their first meeting, and wonders if it was serendipity or an omen. Either way, he wouldn’t have changed it for a thing.

—

8 years later

“YAH! Jung Hoseok!”

Hoseok jerks at the familiar shrill sound of his best friend’s voice. He glances to the left from where he’s laying on the roof, needing a brief moment of silence and peace before his Korean history class, to see you. In your left hand, an empty bread wrapper. In your right hand, his backpack.

Hoseok sits up. “Oh, you found it?”

You glower at him, darkly. “You mean the bread I had been saving since this morning to eat during my break time? Yes. I found it.”

He smiles, small but real, and moves to his feet, throwing his arm over your lithe shoulders. “It was delicious.”

You elbow him in his stomach, making him wince. “You owe me after school.”

He takes his backpack out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I mean it, Hobi,” you warn, trailing behind him. He grabs your shoulder and pulls you under his arm, leading you down the corridor to your shared class, listening to you scold him the entire time.

His heart clenches at the nickname. Only you call him that. And it makes him feel amazing every time. You made it in elementary school, randomly whispering it in his ear, and he’s still embarrassed to say he squealed in bed that night, thinking you had something special only for him.

Yes, yes. He has a crush on you. A huge one, actually. You are his first and only love. And, along with it, the literal bane of his existence. This is because you won’t leave him alone, no matter what he does. 

He has always been an underachiever at school. You, on the other hand, are a shining star, academically. You always score first or second in your year group, you are the class president and you are a member of four different teams. That hadn’t always been true though.

In elementary school, you had gotten into your fair share of fights for him. Hoseok had been skinny and poor, and he looked pitiful most days. The other boys would exclude or tease him, for being so close to you - a girl. They would call him gay or say he had mental instability. Then, you would come out and curse and scold them until they cried. One time, you even kicked a boy so hard in his face, you had broken his front tooth. You both got into so much trouble that day, but it remains his favorite memory of his childhood. The two of you, sitting with your arms raised in the principal’s office, covered in cuts and bruises, messy hair and dirt rubbed all over your clothes from the ensuing fight. You had glanced over at him and given him a private smile that said ‘I don’t regret a thing’, and he returned it with his own. ‘I’d do anything for you.’ He hoped you understood it then, and remember it as fondly as he does now. 

The only things Hoseok can do well are sports, and that’s because he has a hard-head. You come to all of his games, no matter where or when they are, even shirking your other responsibilities to support him. And, this just makes him love you that much more.

He feels like you value him. You support him. You show him so much love that it makes him squirm.

As someone who has been shown none of those things from his family, it was overwhelming at first. He tried to push his feelings away, smother them, kill them even, but it never worked. The feelings would build and build and build until he felt physically sick from the weight of them. At 13, he resigned himself to loving you for as long as he lived, but he knew nothing could come from it.

You were just too lovely for a loser like him.

So, he let himself be your best friend - the bestest best friend he could be. And, it has been a pleasant near-decade of friendship, for the most part.

Until now.

You seemed to have a crush yourself.

And, it was killing him inside.

He didn’t know who, but you had been acting weird these last few months. You did your makeup, changed your hair, stopped wearing glasses. All the cute things he thought were so perfect about you, you were steadily erasing and replacing with someone else. He still thought you were beautiful - actually, it’s been hard to even look you in your eyes - but knowing it was for some other idiot was driving him crazy.

He spends the class stealing glances at the side of your face, wondering how pretty you would be in a few years time. He wonders if he’ll be by your side to see what kind of butterfly you would turn into at that time, too. Or, maybe he will be replaced by someone else. Someone who could actually stand by your side with pride.

—

“Hobi,” you whisper into his ears. He woke up a while ago, but he keeps his eyes closed in order to feel you this close to him. His heart is racing in his chest and he feels queasy in the best way possible. “You shouldn’t sleep here.”

He grumbles a little and you move your hand to pat his chest comfortingly. “It’s cold, Hobi. Wake up and come inside.”

He had developed this habit of waiting outside of your apartment complex on one of the benches when he doesn’t want to go back home. Your parents are the kindest people on Earth, and they always let him in. They give him food, let his shower and even sleep on the couch a couple of times. He’s still a kid, so they probably think he’s pathetic but some days, he thinks he would do anything to stay out of his house. 

It just so happens that he loves being at your house. It’s so warm - just like you.

He wishes he could stay in this bubble for longer, pretending to be asleep so you’ll touch him all tenderly as you are doing. But, it’s cold, and he doesn’t want you to get sick, so he holds all his yearning in his chest and blinks open an eye.

“There you are,” you croon, softly, and then there you go, moving your hand away. He can barely catch the disappointment from appearing on his face. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

And, he trails behind you, like he always does.

A happy, stupid fool.

—

The crush you had on whoever was getting worse, and it was getting harder for him to hold back his frustration each time you gazed longingly out of the window or twisted the necklace he gave you for your thirteenth birthday around your fingers, thinking so deeply that your forehead creased.

He pushes his fingers between your brows to smoothen out the wrinkles and you blink back into clarity.

“Sorry, I was just-”

“Distracted,” he grumbles, pushing his egg-fried rice around on his place. He has no appetite, thinking of all the different guys this fucker could be.

You give him a small smile and go back to your own meal.

God, you were so pretty. Your hair falls into your face a little, so he pushes it behind your ear easily. His fingers barely touch your cheek but he feels electricity zing through his body at the small contact. He wants to cup your soft cheek in his hand, feel how warm your skin is for real, but he settles on just… pushing your hair back and turning his eyes to his plate.

He doesn’t see how red your cheeks burn as he looks away.

—

“YN, you should just tell him,” your friend, Kyunghee… (Kyeonghae? Kyeongmi?) says, and her tone of voice makes Hoseok freeze in his tracks. The girls are in the corridor outside of the girls’ bathroom, and he is going to meet you to walk you to your shared fourth period class. But, something about what your friend is saying makes a pit of anxiety open up in his stomach.

He stands with his back to the wall, hidden from sight, but within hearing distance. He knows it’s wrong but Hoseok can’t help himself. It’s like he’s dying to know but can’t bear the truth either.

“I don’t know…”

You sound so unsure, so nervous, so different from what he knows you to be like, that it makes him sick.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

So, this is what you were talking about. Your crush. He bites his lip so hard that he can taste blood.

“I don’t know what I would do,” you continue on, and it sounds like you are seconds away from crying. Crying over some fucker who isn’t him. His fists clench by his side and he realized that his eyes, too, are stinging.

“Isn’t it better to tell him and get it off your chest?” Your other friend, Sana (Sara? Suha?) says, and he wants to put her head through the wall.

No. It wouldn’t be better. She shouldn’t say anything to anyone about any feelings she may or may not have!

“I think…” You pause, and he holds his breath. “I think I’m in love with him.”

And just like that, Hoseok feels part of himself die right then and there.

—

He doesn’t disappear like he wants to. He diligently walks you to your fourth period class, he sits beside you as he always does, he stares ahead with an intensity so strong that the teacher asks him if he’s alright three different times.

But, he doesn’t speak to you.

In fact, he doesn’t even look at you.

And, he can tell he’s hurting you. however, he can’t help it.

You hurt him first.

Yes, he knows you didn’t mean to. And he knows you probably can’t help how you feel either. But he’s hurting inside, so badly that he thinks he might suffocate. As soon as his last class lets out, he’s rushing out of his seat, out of the classroom and he’s walking back home at a pace so fast, he doesn’t realize his thighs are rubbed raw until he takes a shower later that night before bed.

It’s only when he knows he’s alone, when his dad is gone doing only God knows what, that he finally lets himself cry. 

And he cries all night, even in his sleep, over you.

—

Your relationship becomes strained after that.

You notice it almost immediately. Hoseok stops waiting for you after class, he stops miraculously bumping into your in the corridors, he stops smiling at you through the windows of the class when he takes bathroom breaks.

Instead, there seems to be a wall of ice between the two of you, and you have no idea where it came from.

You try to corner him, to confront him about it, because you deserve an explanation, damn it, but he just weasels his way out of it by hooking onto someone else’s backpack and claiming to be meeting them for dinner or outpacing you with his stupidly long legs.

And, as much as it pains you to say it, you can’t just go to his apartment because you don’t know where he lives.

Over a decade of friendship and he has never invited you over to his place.

You aren’t even sure which area he lives in, even though you both had the bus together every afternoon after school since you were thirteen.

He has always been very private about his life, you wanted to respect his wishes, even if it felt like he didn’t trust you. You try not to personalize it - to not make it about you, but it had been hard, especially considering how open you are with him about everything.

Well, almost everything.

Still, this weirdness has to stop, and soon.

You watch Hobi walk out onto the baseball field in his team uniform. While you were inside studying, Hobi was outside being the shining star of your school’s sports’ team. He’s always been talented with his body and athletics, even if he constantly talked down on his skills. You knew he would be a great fit for the baseball and basketball team, so when you pushed him to go try-out, you knew he would shine. And you were right.

He doesn’t look back up to the window like he usually did to smile and wink at you, and it makes your lips draw down in a deep frown.

Did you do something to him? Did you upset him somehow?

Or… Did he find out?

You blanche at the thought.

But, you had been so careful. He couldn’t know.

Nervously, you gnaw at your thumb nail and feel your forehead furrow in a deep frown. You didn’t know how you could salvage this situation with your childhood best friend, but you know you couldn’t stand this uncomfortable stiffness between the two of you anymore.

Hours later, Hobi changes into his sneakers and tosses his school shoes into his locker. He closes the locker to see you standing directly to his right and it nearly scares the life out of him.

“Fuc- YN! Don’t do that,” he scolds, clutching his hand over his racing heart.

On the other hand, your heart is racing for a different reason. Seeing him look at you for the first time in weeks is making you incredibly nervous. So, you steel your expression and growl, “Follow me.”

“YN…”

You stall on your heel and glare over your shoulder. “Do not piss me off. Follow. Me. Hoseok.”

Fearfully, Hoseok clamps his mouth shut and faithfully trails behind you until you reach the park near your school. You walk far into the park, until you can just barely see the street, and turn to face him.

“Spill,” you command.

He avoids your eyes and shoves his hands in his pocket. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

He gives you a brief look that reads, Yeah, kinda, dummy, before he returns his eyes to the space behind you.

You approach him but he takes one small step back, and that’s enough to stab at your heart.

“Hobi… Did I do something to you?”

He flinches and swallows, his expression growing pained for a moment before smoothing out into nothingness again.

“No,” he replies. “I just- This is a bit… I just want to make new friends.”

It all tumbles out at the end, like a flood of water that he can’t hold back, and if you felt hurt before, now it feels like he’s punched a hole in your chest.

“I never stopped you from making friends, Hobi,” you mutter, eyes stinging. “Did I?”

You really can’t be sure.

His lips pucker, strangely, like he’s sucking on something sour. Finally, he admits, “A little…”

“How?”

You gasp a little, your throat tight and thick, and your eyes are practically on fire.

“You… YN, you and I are always together,” he explains. He starts pacing then, as if he can’t keep himself still. “It’s me and it’s you, and it’s us. Nobody can come between that. So, of course I never made friends. Nobody wanted to talk to me or be around me, and I never needed anyone else. But now… I just feel like we don’t need to be… We should… I need… I need space, dummy.”

Biting down on what you wanted to say, you let out a shuddering breath and nod. “I understand.”

But the voice doesn’t sound like yours anymore. It’s all garbled and wet and weird.

Hoseok seems to notice too because he stops pacing instantly.

“YN…?”

You glance up and he takes a shocked step back before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in close. You are pressed tightly against his chest and all you can see or smell is him.

“I didn’t mean it, don’t cry,” he whispers all at once. “I was being mean. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t cry.”

He’s whispering things over and over again, but you can’t really hear anything over the sound of his racing heartbeat. It’s so loud, it almost deafens you. Hoseok sits you both down on a bench and wraps you up nice and tight, swaying from side to side and patting your back until all the choked sobs have worked their way out.

He wipes your face with his sleeve, waving off your worries of mascara stains. “I’ve got a washing machine, dummy.”

You giggle, but it still sounds so wet and inhuman that it makes you both grimace.

“Can I tell you the truth, YN?

You peer up at him through wet lashes, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring ahead, and his side profile is so handsome, it takes your breath away. He’s always been so pretty to you.

“The reason I can’t be around you anymore is because I fucked up,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. It surprises you deeply as Hoseok rarely ever swears around you. He seems frustrated, nervous and scared. “I… I promised we would always be together, right?”

You nod.

“We both promised, right?”

You nod again.

He turns to look at you this time, and now he’s the one with watery eyes and flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

He takes in a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t for a long time, YN.”

“So…”

“I’m in love with you,” he says in a quiet whisper. The wind carries his words to your ears so delicately that it almost feels as if you imagined it. You stare, dumbly, at him while his ears pink under your gaze. He shrinks on himself and bites his bottom lip. “I told you I fucked up.”

“Then I think I fucked up too,” you admit after a long pause. You reach for his face, holding his cheeks between your shaky palms. “I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.”

His eyes widen until they are incredibly large, and then he’s kissing you. It isn’t hot and angry and wild like you had dreamed. It isn’t soft and chaste like you read about in books. It isn’t sloppy and wet like the girls told you it could be.

It’s warm and firm, like Hoseok always has been. He holds the back of your neck in his hand and moves his other hand to rest on your hip lightly. Hoseok pulls back to press his nose against yours and then pecks you twice on your lips, eyes fluttering closed. Then, he rests his forehead against your own and the two of you just… wait.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?”

You let out a giggle then, and shake your head, pulling back slightly. “Not at all, dummy.”

*end*

[stilesgrace159]

Reddie Roleplay Ideas

These are my RP ideas for Reddie. Please feel free to ask for more info. These are just general ideas. If you’re really interested in a concept, I’ll go into more detail. If you want to add onto a concept or tweak it a bit, feel free to let me know. I prefer to play them in their 20s or at least 18 for teenage stuff. And obviously in their early 40s for any chapter 2 related stuff. Mostly because of smut reasons. I also frequently like to do crossover with other fandoms, so feel free to ask about that as well. My Discord is Olliegee21.

Medieval Royalty AU

This can just be normal, or incorporate Vampires and Werewolves

Maybe a Knight and a Prince

Rival Kingdom/Romeo and Juliet AU

Arranged Marriage/Enemies to Lovers AU

Pirate!Richie x Siren!Eddie - Richie is a pirate on a ship and Eddie is just a little siren who tries to crash ships and eat pirates. A sweet little enemies to lovers AU.

Prince!Eddie x Pirate!Richie - Richie kidnaps a prince for ransom, but Eddie starts falling in love with the freedom of the open seas… as well as his captain.

Vampire & Werewolf AUs

Werewolf!Richie AU - The werewolf turns Richie

1800s British Vampire Period Drama (ft Vampire Eddie or Richie)

80’s Teen Wolf Movie AU - More Werewolf Richie

Vampire!Eddie x Werewolf!Richie - Monster AU/Enemies to Lovers? (Or vice versa) Could be in the 80s, could be modern, could be in any other time period.

A vampire slayer AU - could be modern, could be 80s, could be mixed with the period drama au. Who knows?

The Medieval AUs mentioned before

Other AUs

Reddie/Byler AU - Mike and Richie are cousins (or twins) and Will and Mike go on a trip to Derry to visit. Just 4 boys getting jealous and talking about their feelings.

Ghosts TV Series AU - Richie has had so many brushes with death, he can see ghosts, so he is able to see ghost Eddie.

Neibolt AU - very violent and gory au. Basically, they're just evil and in love. Kind of rough with each other, but it's what they like. They care about each other deep down. They’d murder for each other. They probably have. Maggots and goo.

Beetlejuice AU - In which Eddie is Lydia and Richie is Beetlejuice

Eddie Lives AU - Eddie makes it out. Either we can do this where it’s angsty and fluffy. Or, it can always be a slow turning zombie kind of thing too.

Band AU - Richie in a band. Like Finn in Calpurnia or The Aubreys.

Just a cute 80s high school au.

Norman Bates AU - Eddie is like Norman. I mean, it works. He has mommy issues.

Christine AU - Richie buys a fancy new car to work on but the car has a dark secret. Eddie is worried about how attached his best friend is getting to the car.

Clown AU - Crazy little psycho clown boys. Idk. I saw fanart and loved it.

Losers 7 Deadly Sins - In which the losers are the 7 deadly sins.

Superhero AU - Richie is an evil supervillain and Eddie is an adorable but mouthy superhero. Lots of unresolved sexy tension.

Lisa Frankenstein AU - Eddie has mommy issues and wants to get away but accidentally brings the cute boy from the cemetery back from the dead and there's lots of killing.

Angel Eddie x Demon Richie - cute antics, very good omens

Addams Family AU - It's like the Addams Family Values movie. Eddie is like Wednesday and Richie is like Joel and they meet at summer camp.

Greaser Richie x Prep Eddie - it's the 50s. Ignore time period homophobia for the most part. Think or Grease or The Outsiders. Also… maybe even a touch of Christine?

Another Villain au - basically, my brain likes evil people. Evil scientist Richie, evil sidekick with powers Eddie. Lots of fighting lots of sex.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KKxPAQkg4Uv0qSY8RLX3sABHWND4dp_Nll1hzEcs1Nw/edit?usp=drivesdk

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

Master Post of My Stuff That I’m Proud of :) (I update this ALL the time!)

My Hangaroo/Hangster Relationship Playlist (Youtube)

My Icemav Relationship Playlist

My Ineffable Husbands Playlist (Aziraphale x Crowley from Good Omens) 

My BUDDIE Playlist

My Kate/Tyler (Twisters) Playlist!!!!!!!

(^ I am constantly adding on to these on YouTube, just FYI ^)

Fairytale AU’s

“Two Princesses Fell in Love...” (Rapunzel x Sleeping Beauty AU)

Cinderella Fake Dating AU potential

Top Gun

If Maverick isn’t flying that day, he comes home early... (IceMav ficlet)

Slider Gets an Inheritance from Iceman

“All-American Boy” (Goose x Carole and Hangaroo/Hangster ficlet based on ”All-American Girl” by Carrie Underwood)

What If Wolfman wanted to “adopt” Hangman (original post)

Hangaroo/Hangster Time Travel back to 1986 (very open ending in that I didn’t really end it, so if you want to take it and finish it just let me know so I can read it :) )

Parallel between the Top Gun awards ceremony and another event a few years later (IceMav)

Mav adopts little Bradley after Carole dies and Iceman becomes “Uncle Iceman”...

(^ this one was like the first story-post I did about IceMav and I cannot believe I didn’t have it on here already)

IceMav Holiday Headcanons (Thanksgiving & Christmas)

The REAL IceMav Ending of Top Gun: Maverick

“Top Gun” + “Top Gun Maverick” = “The Notebook” (IceMav)

TGM HEADCANON: The Daggers Take Care of Mav After Ice’s Funeral

Rooster and Hangman Talk after Iceman’s Funeral (Hangaroo/IceMav)

Poker Night Between the Daggers and the 86′ers

Ice Gives Advice to Rooster about Hangman (Hangaroo/Hangster)

Rooster Thinks Hangman is Like the Tin Man and Hangman Thinks...(Hangaroo/Hangster)

Rooster Finally Understands 80′s Love Songs (Hangster/Hangaroo)

“Even Though I’m Leaving” by Luke Combs in the POV of Bradley with Goose, Maverick, and Iceman 

“Hungry Eyes” Hangaroo/Hangster Edit

Hangaroo & Bobnix 27 Dresses AU (27 Tuxes)

IceMav Sweet Home Alabama AU

Hangaroo/Hangster How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days AU

IceMav & Hangaroo/Hangster Letters to Juliet AU

IceMav Ocean’s Eleven AU

IceMav The Wedding Planner AU

IceMav Sleepless in Seattle AU

Top Gun “Psych” AU

TOP GUN/MAVERICK ft. TAYLOR SWIFT

IceMav + “Long Live”

Hangaroo/Hangster + “Style”

Hangaroo/Hangster + “Blank Space”

Hangaroo/Hangster + “I’d Lie”

MCU

MCU Characters x Wizard of Oz Parallels

Tony/Pepper/Peter (Parker) Part 1

Tony/Pepper/Peter(Parker) Part 2

Peter Wants to be a Superhero like his Dad Iron Man (but Mom Pepper Finds Out)

Mamma Mia Spideriron Family AU

IronDad & Spider-son - “I’ve Been Waiting or You” (From “Mamma Mia 2″)

IronDad & Spider-son - “My Love My Life” (from Mamma Mia 2″)

Tony’s Promise to Peter and Morgan post-Endgame (lyrics from “Mamma Mia 2″)

MCU Characters as Star Wars Characters

Peter Grows Up Knowing Tony (because he’s friends with Ben)

After Tony gets to heaven (IronDad-Spider-son post)

Tony Walks In On His Young Son Peter Drawing Pictures of a Guy Named Star-Lord (IronQuill)

Stranger Things

Billy Being Raised By His Grandma AU (ft. Harringrove)

Billy Being Raised by His Grandma AU Part 2 (ft. Harringrove)

Billy and Steve go to See “Top Gun” and need a second (or third) opinion

Finding Billy in the Upside Down (with s2 callback)

Harringrove S4 AU + Princess Bride Quote

S4 AU - Steve Chooses Between Eddie and Billy after Finding Billy in the Upside Down

Steve Keeps Billy’s Leather Jacket

Our Flag Means Death

OFMD x “Grease” Parallels

Ed and Stede are the Parents of Another Famous Pirate

Blackbonnet (Stede x Ed) Corpse Bride AU

(S2 FINALE SPOILERS) There is an Inn near the RoP...(Blackbonnet)

****911****

Buck’s s7 Bi Journey set to “Defying Gravity” lyrics (fan art/fan-edit)

Chimney Creates a Bachelor-inspired Office Pool (Bucktommy, Buddie)

Chimney, Hen and Ravi argue about altering the original office pool (Buddie)

What if Eddie kisses Buck while he’s with Tommy...? (Buddie, Bucktommy)

Three Earth-Shattering Events in One Week (7x04)

What if Tommy is in a Helicopter Crash...? (Bucktommy, Buddie)

“911″ -> “8 Simple Rules”-style (Bi Buck, Dad!Bobby, Buddie)

Athena Going Mama Bear on Tommy (Mom!Athena, Bucktommy)

Cruise Ship Doc Asks Buck if Bathena are His Parents (Dad!Bobby, Mom!Athena)

 “He Didn’t Have to Be” by Brad Paisley (Buck & Christopher, Buck & Bobby)

Bobby is the Parent Buck Has Always Needed (Buck & Bobby, Dad!Bobby)

The Theme of Parents and Children in 6x10 (Buck & Bobby, Dad!Bobby)

6x11 “Which one?” (Buckley-Diaz family)

Bobby Watching Buck Sleep in the Hospital after 6x11 (Dad!Bobby, Buck & Bobby)

Buck and Eddie Have Trouble Getting Engaged... (Buddie, Firefam)

When Buck and Eddie Become a Couple, They Have to Work Separately (Buddie)

“Hamilton”-inspired Buddie (Buddie, Dad!Bobby)

Multifandom Posts

This Blog Loves Found Father-Son Relationships

Gibbs & Tony - Bobby & Buck Parallel

Mary Poppins was the Doctor’s Nanny (Doctor Who x Disney)

Iceman and Raymond Holt would be great friends - causing great friendships between Ice, Maverick and the 99th precinct in NYC (Top Gun/Maverick x Brooklyn Nine Nine)

[ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs]

Okay so at some point I was writing like 4 fandoms at once and some original stories. I have since written one Disney one shot and the rest has all been Marauders. So I have a feeling I should fix that 😂. I loved being a fully multi fandom account. Like I wrote Marvel stuff, Harry Potter stuff, Disney stuff, MCYT stuff, BNHA stuff, OUAT stuff all at the same time and had like 40 different books. Most of it was MHA of course cause at the time, that was the big thing. Everyone was into that. But I haven't written much outside of my bubble. So I present a challenge (for those who want to participate of course), give me a fandom to get into. I will post my list of fandoms under the cut. I will look into said fandom and write at least one one shot about it and put it in AO3. Only because I would love to be multi fandom again, I just haven't gotten into much as of lately.

Once Upon a Time 

Harry Potter

Marvel

Star Wars

Glee

Liv And Maddie

Disney

V for Vendetta

Hamilton

Heathers

BNHA

Doctor Who

Firefly/Serenity 

Lovejoy (But I don't Support Wilbur)

Wilbur Soot (Don't support Wilbur himself)

Technoblade

Friends

Wednesday

Divergent

Disney Parks

Tesla

Riverdale

Melanie Martinez (I don't support Melanie herself)

Sam Smith

Tom Lehrer

Mitch Hedberg

John Mulaney

Nick Kroll

Taylor Tomlinson

Dungeons And Dragons

Gabriel Iglesias 

Stranger Things

Unus Annus

Markiplier

Jacksepticeye

CrankGamePlays

Five Nights At Freddy’s

Slime Rancher

Harley Quinn

Dear Evan Hansen

Dangnonronpa

Bob Ross

In The Heights

Free Guy

Percy Jackson

Apollo Series

Asylum Series

My Chemical Romance

Paramore

Cinder Series

Nerdy Nummies

How To Cake It

Monster

Grease

Animal Crossing

Totally Reliable Delivery Service 

Call Of Duty

Halo

Zoo Tycoon

Powerwash Simulator 

Alexa and Katie

The Crown

Bo Burnham 

Beetlejuice

Lana Del Rey 

Face Off

Red Rising

Kevin Hart

Jo Koy

Mateo Lane

Slime Meowy

PeachyBbies 

Assassination Classroom 

The Grinch

Moriah Elizabeth 

TPM Videos

Andy Weir

Project Hail Mary

Artemis

Ready Player One

The Martian

Inception

Punisher

Spiderman

Shadow And Bone

Six

Narnia

Marauders

Hazbin Hotel

Dear Evan Hansen

Game Of Thrones

Gilmore Girls

StampyCat/StampyLongNose

Mean Girls

After Series

Archie Comics

The Flash

Arrow

Ouran Highschool Host Club

TX2

SkyDxddy

Cloudy June

We Three

AC/DC

Aerosmith

Dorian Gray

Ben Barnes

Hadestown

Blue Eye Samurai

Daz Black

JacksFilms

Bridgerton

How to train your dragon

P4perback

Whataboutpadfoot

P4perangel

Taylor Swift

Brain Leak

VOILA

Skyrim

Assassin's Creed 

Pirates Of The Caribbean 

Deadpool

X-Men

Bluey

Mario

Jujutsu Kaisen

Hozier

Good Omens

Sam And Colby

Kall Me Kris

Billie Eillish

Little Misfortune 

Nerdforge

The Princess Bride

DSMP

HermitCraft

My Little Pony

A Goofy Movie

Slime Obsidian 

The Rise Of The Order

The Last Of Us

The Big Bang Theory 

South Park

Winx Club

OddCat Cosplay

Commander BunBun Cosplay

Soul Eater

Heartbreak High

Young And Hungry

The Lord Of The Rings

Saturday Night Live

Westworld 

Lucifer

Chapell Roan

Renee Rapp

Tinkerbell

Queen

(As of 8/01/2024)

Some might be doubles but, that was everything I've been into. A lot of it honestly doesn't have great fanfiction potential though. I have admittedly written a little bit of Ben Barnes stuff too. But not much. I think maybe 5 one shots if that.

The whole list was taken from my Quotev list. But, I wanted to share my own interests and encourage others to share theirs. Perhaps tag someone and let's see how many interests I can collect lol.

I know that there are a lot of fandoms here that I probably could write for but haven't gotten around to it. I probably will eventually I just also enjoy the thought of learning new things as well.

[torysdrawingstories]

My attempt to draw a Grease AU.

Aziraphale is the cute lil nerd in school and Crowley is the handsome smooth talker and trouble maker with a gang called the T Demons.

[enough-of-a-bastard]

I feel a tension between being attracted to the troublemaker / bad boy / social outcast with a mean streak and NOT wanting someone who will actually abuse or control me.

An appeal of Good Omens is that Crowley (who fits the bad boy stereotype) always respects Aziraphale's boundaries. Also, it's clear that Aziraphale both wants to be with the troublemaker, but also wants to be the troublemaker. Enough of a bastard, indeed.

[illylli]

Good Times for a Change (Pt. 1) | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

→ All it takes is a twenty-minute car ride for Eddie to start crushing on you.

→ 2.5k words: eddie’s POV, the overachiever x metalhead dynamic i always tend to write, eddie basically being max’s new (much healthier) older brother, reader being a sweetheart and eddie is just instantly awooga heart-eyes

→ a/n: sorry i’ve been away so long! work has been crazy and i haven’t had a spare moment to write :’( i will get back onto finishing up ‘bite my tongue’ and some other fics i have planned as soon as i can x

♫ mood: ‘please, please, please, let me get what i want’ by the smiths

part two

“Shit, shit! Piece of shit.”

Eddie’s knuckles were taut white as he shoved the key further than it would go, receiving nothing but a sputtering engine in response. He burst with a shout, slapping his hands down on the weathered steering wheel, his hair jerking as he raged in the driver’s seat.

This had to be a sign. An ill-omen that he was destined to be stuck in this hellish loop, repeating senior year for eternity. The first day back to good ole Hawkins High, and he was going to be late because his trusty gal decided to go frigid on him.

Despite being at it for a solid ten minutes, enough that he was panicking now, Eddie refused to give up, shoving the creaky door open and rounding on the hood. Did he have any idea what he was doing as he hoisted it up? Nope. But he was damn sure going to fiddle with everything at least once to see if it made any difference.

His eyes flitted between the front door of the trailer and the over-complicated metal innards of the van. He could wake Wayne up; he’d know for sure what to do. But as quickly as the thought entered his head, he shook it out. He wasn’t going to interrupt his uncle’s well-deserved rest for something he could figure out himself.

He always figured things out, in the end.

This time, though, it seemed he wouldn’t need to.

A cream Porsche 911 rolled forward, windows down, allowing a Smiths song to swirl in the air. Eddie scrunched his nose at the sound, turning around to bear witness to the way you, bright-eyed behind your round sunglasses, popped out and half-jogged up to the Mayfield family’s home, knocking thrice and bouncing on the heels of your shiny black boots as you waited.  

Eddie only realised he had gone slack-jawed when the emerging Max gave him an annoyed glare as she exited. Her arm was immediately linked in yours as you turned back to your car, a flurry of words bubbling from your perfectly-poised lips. You couldn’t be more opposite to the redhead, who sulked all the way to the passenger side, waiting with crossed arms as you opened the door for her.

It was then, as you were shutting the door gently, that your eyes peered up over the lenses of your glasses and caught Eddie Munson leaning over his van engine, staring at you.

He felt his cheeks flush stupidly as he quickly brought his eyes back down, hoping you wouldn’t say anything, but knowing you would.

The preppy now-senior who was always voted ‘most likely to exceed’ in every yearbook didn’t belong in a dump like this. Though Eddie’s curiosity wouldn’t take him as far to ask you why.

“Gimme a sec,” You told Max with a tap to the roof of your car, before Eddie heard the gravel beneath your boots crunching as you made your way over to him.

Eddie got to looking busy, fidgeting with the cap on one of the compartments, his fingers staining with grease as he twirled it off.

“Need a hand?” You asked sweetly, and though Eddie didn’t mean to let it slip, he huffed in amusement at the thought of little miss perfect getting her hands dirty.

“No I’ve uh,” he gave a tight grin, pulling at another mystery part of the engine, “I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You bristled at the term, unsure if it was used genuinely or with condescending intent. “Right,” you nodded, glancing down at his hands, “I’ve just never seen someone use a dipstick to measure engine coolant.” You bent over, tapping on the side of the semi-transparent container. “You can see the levels marked right here; in case you didn’t know.”

Eddie heard snickering, his gaze darting over to your car where Max was hanging out of the window, laughing at him. He hadn’t seen his neighbour smile, let alone hear her laugh before. He wasn’t sure if being the cause of her amusement should make his embarrassment grow or lessen.

“Leave the dipstick alone,” Max called, “He’s going to make us late.”  

You rolled your eyes with your back turned to her, though you wore an endeared smile, and it eased Eddie. Your first shared joke, and he wasn’t even sure you knew his name.

You brought your manicured hands to your hips. “Edward Munson, right?” You asked, as if reading his thoughts.

He winced slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Eddie’s fine. Or dipstick, as lovingly dubbed by my nefarious neighbour.” He said that last part over your shoulder, and Max threw up a middle finger.

“Well, Eddie,” you tested his name, “Are you going to play mechanic all day, or do you want a lift to school?”

Eddie sighed, closing the van’s hood. That meant you remembered the fact that his name hadn’t been amongst those called out on graduation day last year. Shame crawled up his throat and he swallowed it down as usual.

He lingered for a second, letting The Smiths serenade his decision as he retrieved his backpack from the van before locking it up.

“I’m all yours.”  

With a content nod you lead him to your car, and only then did he realise it only had 2 doors. Max eyed Eddie as you bent over, pulling the driver’s seat forward. He widened his eyes at her, a response to her silent dare, but also a tactic to stop his gaze from slipping to the bare back of your thighs and up higher, where your skirt hem danced just below your-

“Eddie!”

His eyes snapped back to Max’s bright blue then away to the treeline, coughing awkwardly as you straightened, motioning for him to climb into the backseat. When he didn’t immediately go for it, you frowned up at him, then back to Max.

“Everything okay?”

Max narrowed her eyes at the young man. “I’m fine.”

“Peachy,” Eddie muttered, smiling to himself as Max scoffed. He clambered, with effort, into the backseat, his knees almost coming up to his chest in the tiny car. Max made a point to push her seat back all the way, cramping him further as she gave herself a lot more leg room than she needed.

“Comfortable, Mayfield?” Eddie grumbled.

“Yup,” She bit back, putting her feet up on the dash, which you quickly swatted down.

“Seatbelt,” You instructed, pushing your seat back into position, mercifully giving Eddie extra room to stretch out behind you. He had to hunch over, otherwise his head would be against the low roof.

Morrissey was pleading, “Let me, let me, let me” as you put the car into drive, circling around, driving past Eddie’s van and along the dirt road to exit the trailer park.

You drove with the windows down, and as you picked up speed, turning onto the paved road, Max opened the glove compartment, riffling through your collection of cassettes.

Eddie wasn’t hopeful, but he popped his head between the front seats, scrutinising if you had anything good. The Cure, Bowie, Cocteau Twins; not exactly his taste, but at least you weren’t totally hopeless.

“Check my bag,” you told Max, pointing to the back. She rounded on Eddie, frowning at him with her hand outstretched. He looked left then right, muttering a curse as he realised the sage green bag had been squashed under his reeboks.

Max waited impatiently as he pulled it up, unzipping it before handing it to the girl. He’d gotten a glimpse into your life in that split second: lipstick, a couple dollars, and a whiff of maddening perfume surrounding a small package wrapped in butcher’s paper.

As soon as Max laid eyes on the contents her annoyance faded to curiosity. You nodded, encouraging her as she picked up the small box.

She tore into it, unwrapping a tape with a purple cover.

“Kate Bush?”

You smiled, eyes still on the road. Eddie watched the exchange through the rear-view mirror as he relaxed into the soft leather seat.

“She got me through my freshman year. She’ll get you through yours.” You reached over and tugged on her braid, and she shoved your hand away, but a small smile stayed on her lips.

Max switched out The Smiths for her gift, and though it definitely was not something he’d be caught dead listening to, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his soul warm every time he got to witness someone fall in love for the first time. Max sat back, her glassy eyes wide and reminiscing as she turned her head and watched the trees fly by, the music sinking into her.

Eddie wanted to ask how the hell a senior with an express ticket to an Ivy League college had come to befriend his sulky young neighbour, but he knew better than to interrupt the listening session, a comfortable silence falling as you appreciated the record.

He took the time to admire the way your delicate pearl bracelet swayed each time you shifted gears, your handling of the car so smooth he could barely feel it each time. The realisation finally struck him that he, Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, was getting chauffeured by the most well-liked person of the school.

And no, popularity had nothing to do with it. You were far from ‘popular’; those who were envied and unapproachable. You were the people person: a rare mix of agreeable and adaptable that made absolutely everyone at the very least neutral to your presence. You could pick any table to sit at during lunch, strike up a conversation with anyone, be it teacher or student, and have them smiling the whole way through.

Hell, you’d managed to squeeze a few out of Mayfield, despite her usual stormy disposition.

As the previous song ended, Eddie spoke into the silence before the next began, his hands wrapping around the seat on either side of your head.

“You make this a habit?” He asked, “A shuttle for the wicked?”

You peered at him through the rear view, humour sparkling in your eyes. “This is a one-off for you, Munson. I only promised Max my wheels for the school year.”

“Why is that, I wonder?” He mused mischievously, turning his attention to the younger girl, “You got some juicy dirt on the future valedictorian?”

“Oh, of course,” Max turned in her seat, facing Eddie through the gap in the headrest, over-enthusiastic, “She sells drugs to kids and failed senior year twice.”

“Har har,” Eddie fell back into the leather, wearing a tight-lipped smile, “Great joke.”

“The greatest joke of all is in the backseat wearing his shirt inside out,” She muttered, turning back to the front.

“Hey,” you warned, but your tone was gentle. Max faced out the window again, and your eyes caught Eddie’s in the mirror. “She’s right, though.”

His heart sunk.

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

He looked down, uttered an “Oh,” just as you pulled into the car park.

“Wait,” you told Max, her hand on the door handle. “Did your mom pack you lunch?”

“No,” She replied, as if it were a fact of life.

You pulled your bag onto your lap, retrieving a lunchbox with a faded wonder woman adorning the front. “I didn’t know what you like, so I made one ham and one turkey. There’s also a fudge brownie in there. Just bring back whatever you don’t eat.”

Max frowned as you passed the box to her, caught off guard.

“Thanks,” she murmured before leaving without so much as a goodbye to Eddie.

“Have a good day!” You yelled out the window, “I’ll meet you back here at three.”

She nodded before sliding her headphones onto her ears.

“Is the big juicy secret that you’re actually her mom?”

Eddie’s voice made you jump, and you remembered he was still in the back.

He reached forward, leaving a teasing pinch to your arm. “Are you secretly like, forty-five, but super good at doing your makeup, or something?”

“Or something,” You retorted, pulling the passenger seat all the way forward to give him a way out.

Instead of leaving, he pulled his shirt over his head, flipping it the right way out. He glanced up, catching you looking at his chest, then looking away when you noticed.

Eddie chuckled as he shrugged the shirt back on. “Wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression, right?”

“More like third impression.”

“Hey, third time’s the charm, don’t they say?” He leaned forward to go, but paused, his guitar-pick necklace dangling in your face. “Mommy dearest didn’t pack my lunch, either, y’know.”

You laughed, shoving him. “I’m not a charity worker. You can eat from the cafeteria like all the other neglected kids.”

He felt it then. What everyone else must have, when in your presence. The distinct magnetism that came with this easy flow, like you’d been friends for years, when in reality you’d only officially become acquainted twenty minutes ago. He didn’t want to leave.

“I’m guessing I won’t see you there?”

You looked up at him, and he wondered if everyone felt their heart stop when you looked at them like that.

“You might.”

He chuckled, “How does this work? Do I chant your name three times into the boy’s bathroom mirror and you show up at my lunch table?”

“Or you could just save me a seat and I’ll come find you.”

He wasn’t sure what was happening in his chest, but the ricochet of his heart’s pounding made his breath quiver.

“Alright.”

You weren’t flirting with him. You were not flirting. You were just being nice. You were like this to everyone.

Eddie was trying to get it through his thick skull, but no matter how many times he told himself, he couldn’t believe it. Especially not when you hurried out to meet him at the passenger side to offer him your hand as he climbed out, your free one landing gently on his head to make sure he didn’t bump it on the way out.

“Your hair’s really soft,” you complimented.

“You too,” he stammered, “Uh, I mean, it looks-“ He reached out, pushing a stray lock behind your ear, then immediately regretting doing it without asking. “Mhmm. Yes. Confirmed.”

What was happening to him? His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. A betrayal of his own body that worsened when he realised he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“Shit. Sorry.”

As he let go, a group of jocks passed by, subtlety lost on them as they glared at him.

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, “Anyway. See you at lunch. Maybe.” He backed up, feeling the tension in his chest lighten slightly the further he got away, “If you’re not there by second bell I’ll start chanting.”

You tittered. “You’re really not doing anything to quell the satanist rumours, are you?”

“That’s what I’ve got you for, angel,” he winked.

→ message me to be added to the taglist for this character → comments & reblogs are super appreciated as it encourages me to post more → please do not repost any of the writing in this post, thank you!

tags: @andperset​ @1a-ma1a-su3rt3​

[periipatetic]

My Fandom List so you can get an idea of where my upcoming canon and original muses are coming from

6 Underground 

A-Team 

Addams Family 

Almighty Johnsons 

Altered Carbon 

American Horror Story 

Baby Driver 

Being Human 

Black Butler

Blade 

Boondock Saints 

Breakfast Club 

Buffyverse 

Call Me By Your Name 

Camp Half Blood 

CAOS

Celtic Myth 

Charmed 

Constantine 

Covenant 

Criminal Minds 

Cursed 

Dark Angel 

Daybreak 

DC 

Deadly Class 

Death Note 

Death Race 

Demon Hunter 

Descendants 

Dirk Gently 

Disney 

Disney Princesses 

Doom Patrol 

Dracula Untold 

Ever After High 

Expendables 

Fast and Furious 

Firefly 

Four Brothers 

From Dusk Til Dawn 

Frontier 

Game of Thrones 

Ghost Wars 

Good Omens 

Gossip

Grave Encounters 2

Grease 

Greek Myth 

Grimm 

Hansel and Gretel Witch Hunters

Hawaii Five-0

Heathers

Hellboy 

Hemlock Grove 

High School Musical 

If I Had Wings 

Inception 

Italian Job 

Jonah Hex 

Julie and The Phantoms 

Jumper 

Justified 

Karate Kid 

Killjoys 

Kingsman 

Labyrinth 

Lemonade Mouth 

Leverage

Librarians 

Look Away 

Lost Girl 

Loveless 

Magicians 

Marvel 

MCU 

Merlin 

Middle Earth 

Mighty Ducks 

Misfits 

Mutant X 

Mythology 

Newsies 

No Fandom 

Norse Myth 

OUAT 

Pacific Rim 

Paradise Hills 

Potc 

Pottervere 

Power Rangers 

Pretty Little Liars 

Prison Break 

Psych 

Pump Up The Volume 

Riddick 

Riverdale

RocknRolla  

Roswell 

Runaways 

Sandman 

Sex Education 

Shadowhunters 

Shakespeare 

Shameless 

Shannara Chronicles 

Sherlock 

Skins 

Skulduggery Pleasant 

Sky High 

Smallville 

Sons of Anarchy 

Spartacus

Star Trek 

Stargate 

Stranger Things 

Suicide Room 

Suicide Squad 

Supernatural 

Teen Wolf 

The 100 

The Boys 

The Letter for the King 

The Losers

The OA 

The Old Guard

The Order 

The Unit 

The walking Dead 

Titans

Tomb Raider 

Transporter 

Travelers 

True Blood 

TVDU 

Twilight 

Umbrella Academy 

Vikings 

Warehouse 13 

White Collar 

Witcher 

Wolves 

Wynonna Earp 

X-men 

Z Nation 

[sketchygirls4lipstickboys]

If you want any headcannons/self inserts/imagines/etc for ANY 80′s movie I’m going to be taking requests till August 12th! 

I’ll also take requests for:

- literally any teen romcom ever

- Like, seriously. Mean Girls, Legally Blonde, a n y t h i n g

- any quentin tarantino film created

- any comic film created 

- marvel, dc, scott pilgrim vrs the world, x-men, etc.

- any bands/artists, such as; fall out boy, p!atd, mcr, the beatles, top, led zeppelin, elton john, queen, david bowie, etc.

- any celebrities; Ralph Macchio, Patrick Swayze, Molly Ringwald, etc

- any musicals; Hamilton, Heathers, Dear Evan Hanson, Be More Chill, etc.

- doctor who

- supernatural

- sherlock

- good omens

- harry potter

- fuckin, anything keanu reeves has done

- star wars

- the office

- it’s always sunny in Philadelphia

- friends 

- parks and rec

- baby driver

- la la land

- until dawn

- IT (2017 version, 1990 version, and book)

- stranger things

- life is strange

- that 70′s show

- breaking bad

- the walking dead

- merlin

- disney

- riverdale

- the umbrella academy

- my mad fat diary

- mr robot

- gilmore girls

- Hannibal

- anything by john green

if you don’t see one of your fandoms up here, dm me about it! maybe i’ll know it!

The only rules are:

- i wont be taking nsfw requests

- i’ll 100% take fluff requests and stuff like “if dallas winston was my s/o”. (i actually encourage requests like those!)

- i sadly won’t take any requests for Game of Thrones, Anime, or American Horror Story as i’m not really into them

- if you want a self insert hc/imagine or a “dating so & so” type of thing it would be extremely appreciated if you added on what you look like to your request! Just simple stuff like; gender, eye color, hair color, skin tone, and height. If you don’t want this information about you to be public, i’m totally fine with you privately dming me. I won’t post your request on my acc either, i’ll just send you the finished product privately if you so desire

- i will do crossovers! just please don’t send me stuff like “supernatural + ferris bueller + friends + 2017 it + outsiders + doctor who + good omens + marvel + etc etc etc”

- if you do want a crossover, please be specific! Like maybe you want post movie outsiders + grease. Which i’m totally cool with! Just add some info :)

- if you want a band/artist im not taking michael jackson. just putting it out there. hee hee on your own time

. . . 

I will do like literally anything. You want a modern recasting of the breakfast club? You got it. You want a Mean Girls! Outsiders Au? Dude yes. You want to be Daniel Larusso’s s/o? Cool. You want to date ferris bueller? sick. You want to date Sloan Peterson? even cooler. You want to be in the movie Dirty Dancing? Awesome. You want Andrew and Allison hcs from the breakfast club? i’ll give it to you. 

Don’t let this flop guys I’m so bored lmao

[youbetterworkcovergirl]

2020 Movies

Batman: Under The Red Hood

Pump Up The Volume

A Country Wedding

Cool As Ice

Surprised By Love

Life With Mikey

True Romance

All of My Heart: Inn Love

Absentia

Dream/Killer

Tell Me Who I Am

Sweetheart

Growing the Big One

All Things Valentine

Step Up All In

Love On A Limb

Love Struck Cafe

Drop Zone

Girl on the Third Floor

Hard Rain

Sightseers

Switchback

Mobsters

Campfire Kisses

Hobbs and Shaw

Little Darlings

Streetdance

Malevolence

Good Boys

Midnight Masquerade 

Killer: Malevolence 3

Dinner for Schmucks 

Fractured

Nightmares in Red, White and Blue

Testament

The Unauthorized Beverly Hills 90210 Story

The Killing Secret

Countdown

Joker

I See You

Satisfaction

Grease 2

Terminator: Dark Fate

Ghost

In Fear

Sister Act 2

Grease Live

Gretel and Hansel

I Know My First Name Is Steven

Mother, May I Sleep With Danger

Hostile Advances

Hidden in Silence

Miss Americana

The Murder of Nicole Brown Simpson

Doctor Sleep

Grave Encounters

Hairspray Live

Sister Act

Dad

Mad City

Mortuary 

Mausoleum 

12 Strong

The Barn

Polaroid

Climax

Troop Zero

One Night In October

Top Gun

A Nightmare On Elm Street

Mad City

The Mummy

The Vatican Tapes

Miss Americana

P.S. I Still Love You

Payback

The Ugly

Just Cause

Incident in a Ghostland

Camp Cold Brook

Goodbye World

The Neighbour

Grandview, USA

The Mummy

Assimilate

It Comes At Night

Midway

It’s A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Hiroshima

Zombieland Double Tap

Mercy Black

The House That Jack Built

21 Bridges

The Crash Reel

Jojo Rabbit

Marauders 

Eden Lake

102 Minutes That Changed America

White Light/Black Rain

After Parkland

The Farewell

Frozen II

The Devil’s Own

Scooby-Doo: Return to Zombie Island

Candyman 2

Candyman 3

Yellowbrickroad

Queen and Slim

Headless Horseman

The First Purge

The Purge

Haunted Honeymoon

Charlie’s Angels

Contagion

Hail, Satan? 

The Purge: Anarchy

The Purge: Election Year

Lisa

The Killing Room

The Hunted

Chain Reaction

Kingsmen: The Secret Service

Body Bags

Rings

Ruin Me

A Quiet Place

Seven In Heaven

World War Z

Outbreak

Lost Girls

Dark Waters

Glass

Black Christmas (2019)

The Incredible Hulk

The Phantom of the Opera

31

The Believers

Sinster

And The Band Played On

The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia 

93 Days

The Last Broadast

The Spy Who Dumped Me

Asylum

Train to Busan

The Grudge

Killer Workout

Good Will Hunting

Murder in New Hampshire

Demolition High 

Legacy of Fear

The Last of the Manson Girls

The Fear Footage

Smoke and Mirrors: The Story of Tom Savini

Humanoids From The Deep

Richard Jewell

Just Mercy

Animal Among Us

Sleepers

Scare Me

The 6th Friend

Opera

5B

We Were Here

The Origin of Aids

Birds of Prey 

Dolittle

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Family Portrait

The Moors Murders

Where is Robert Fisher?

Valentine Road

West of Salem

Rise of Skywalker

Butterfly Kisses

Savage Streets

Ghostheads

Born Innocent

American Experience: Blackout

Anatomy of a Seduction

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning

Texas Chainsaw 3D

Antrium

A.M.I

Not Since You

The Money Pit

Violation of Trust

Love’s Deadly Triangle

Underwater

Onward

Cruel Doubt

Extraction

Bombshell

Spies in Disguise 

Bad Boys for Life

The Stalker Club

Mississippi Burning

Choose

Little Shop of Horrors

Tourist Trap

Contamination

Street Trash

American Animals

The Warriors

Waco: The Rules of Engagement 

Chain Letter

Return to Horror High

Free Willy

Don’t Tell Mom The Babysitter’s Dead

Rookie of the Year

Where The Boys Are

Little Big League

Cool Runnings

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids

Connie and Carla

A Star is Born

Hangman

Friends with Benefits 

Cam

The Platform

How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days

Brave

VFW

Bushwick

Mission Impossible: Fallout

In The Deep Woods

C.H.U.D

Monday at 11:01 am

13 Eerie

The 13th Man

Square One

Monsters Wanted

The Man In The Red Bandanna 

Hotel Artemis 

Bedeviled

Terror on the 44th Floor

Patriot Games

The Mandela Effect

The Aristocats

Oliver and Company

Goodnight Mommy

The Manson Family Massacre

The Lodge

Savage Weekend

Bloody Murder 2

Seoul Station

Are You Scared 

The Stay Awake

Kemper

Fantasy Island

To Hell and Back: The Kane Hodder Story

Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

The Scream Team

Phantom of the Megaplex

Mom’s Got A Date With A Vampire

Panic Button

Madhouse

The Turning

Brahms: The Boy II

The Invisible Man

Scream Queen! My Nightmare on Elm Street

The Cover Up

I Am Not Your Negro

The House That Dripped Blood

Inkubus

Trucks

The Way Back

Innocent Blood

The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas

The American Nightmare

Rhinestone

Guyana Tragedy 

Raze

13th

1BR

Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School

Storage 24

Dead Man’s Curve

Sick School

Hair 

Most Valuable Players

The Day the 60s Died

February One 

Freedom Summer

Devil’s Playground

Knowing

Lethal Weapon

I Still Know What You Did Last Summer

The Postcard Killings

A Chorus Line

City of Angels

Brian Banks

The Redwood Massacre

101 Dalmations

Zootopia

Tales From The Crypt: Demon Knight

Murder in the First

Dragnet

Black Rock

Hamilton

We Summon the Darkness

Behind You

Swing Shift

High Spirits

V for Vendetta

The Gallows Act II

Edge of the Axe

The Peanuts Movie

Better Off Single

The Marshes

Dude Bro Party Massacre III

Extracurricular

Grizzly Man

What Keeps You Alive

Body Count

Miss You Already

The House In Between

We Are Your Friends

Witches in the Woods

Scoob!

Exhibit A

American Tragedy

7500 

976-Evil II

Abattoir

Invasion

Descent

Extremity

Scare Package

Some Kind of Hate

Inheritance

Resistance  

The Others

The Furies

Host

In Search of Darkness

Ginger Snaps

Corey Haim Me, Myself and I

Body Cam

Victims

The Forgotten West Memphis Three

Spooky House

The Boyfriend School

The Wretched

Amityville 1992

After Midnight

The Wretched

Halloween With The New Addams Family

Into The Grizzly Maze

Rabid (2019)

Max Relod and the Nether Blasters

The Monster Club

Nightmares

Criminal Law

From Beyond

Slaughterhouse Rulez

I Trapped The Devil

Gleaming the Cube

Freaks

The Flintstones Meet Rockula and Frankenstone

Shadow of Doubt

Perfect Stranger

Howl

Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

That Was Then This Is Now

Incarnate

Twitches

American Fright Fest

Excision

The Gray Man

Beg

Open 24 Hours

Wer

The Scare House

Girl House

Fear

Chernobyl Hour by Hour 

The Babysitter: Killer Queen

The Tingler

Repo Man

The Honor List

Defenseless

Don’t Open Til Christmas

Phantom of the Mall: Eric’s Revenge

10/31

Children of the Corn: The Gathering

Children of the Corn II

Widow’s Point

Children of the Corn V: Fields of Terror

Children of the Corn 666: Issac’s Return

Love, Fall and Order

Blair Witch

The Frightening

The Blair Witch Project

Becky

Random Acts of Violence

Spiral 

Scare Me

American Murder

Cannibal Holocaust

Perfect Little Angels

Farm House

The Hole

Gossip

Ghost of Goodnight Lane

The Haunting

Twin Towers

Guerilla The Taking of Patty Hearst

Greystone Park

The Cleansing Hour

Adam Resurrected 

Aiborne

Let’s Scare Julie

September 11

Happy Halloween Scooby-Doo

The Dentist

Tales From the Hood 2

Beneath

All You’ve Got

The Mortuary Collection

The Trial of the Chicago 7

Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers

Dolly Patron: Here I Am

Conspiracy: The Trial of the Chicago 8

The Video Dead

The Lie

Scream: The Inside Story

The Omen Legacy

Still Screaming

Tiny Toons’ Night Ghoulery 

The Last Days

One Day In Semptember

A Stranger Among the Living

Trick

After Midnight

Black X-mas

American Mary

Amusement

Cursed

The Den

The Forsaken

Fright Night

Antebellum

Blood Vessel

Survival of the Film Freaks

Batman

10 Things I Hate About You

I Am Nancy

Never Sleep Again

Mischief Night

Saw II

Bill and Ted Face The Music

Saw III

Saw IV

Christmas Made to Order

Olaf’s Frozen Adventure

Pride and Prejudice and Mistletoe

Direct To Video

Saw V

A Very Merry Mix up

Christmas At Pemberley Manor

Sense, Sensible and Snowmen

A Joyous Christmas

Anna

Run

Train to Busan: Pennisula

#Alive

Christmas Camp

Witchboard

Porno

Road to Christmas

Friendsgiving

Zombies

If Anything Happens I Love You

Diana In Her Own Words

Christmas On The Square

Unhinged

Amish Grace

Polytechnique

The Only Way

The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Soul

Freaky

The Rental

Relic

Unlawful Entry

White House Down

The Craft: Legacy

Christmas in Connecticut

Absence of Malice

6 Souls

10.5 Apocalypse

 13 Hours

A Shoe Addict’s Christmas

A Stranger Among Us

9/11 The Day That Changed The World

No Escape

A Country Christmas Story

Dolly Patron’s Christmas Coat of Many Colors: Circle of Love

Smiley Face Killers

Death of Me

Detective Pikachu

One October

The Broken Hearts Gallery

A Cheerful Christmas

Head Count

Hamilton: One Shot To Broadway

Fire in the Sky

Fade to Black

Children of the Corn: Revelation

Children of the Corn: Genesis

Children of the Corn III

Blind Faith

[pika-ace]

Good Omens/Ineffable Husbands Animatics I want to see happen

Because my shipper brain is going NUTS and I know you all feel the same so if there are any people out there who know how to animatic stuff, here’s my starter kit of songs to choose from to invoke the feels both good and bad

A Whole New World (Aladdin) 

Fixer Upper (Frozen) 

Dead Girl Walk (Heathers) - for anyone who wants to take the NSFW route :P

Without Love (Hairspray Movie) - specifically with Crowley and Aziraphale doing Seaweed and Penny’s parts cause they have more lines, secondary couple can be Newt x Anathema or Shadwell x Tracy :/

Legally Blonde (Legally Blonde Musical) 

For Good (Wicked) 

Jolly Holiday (Mary Poppins) (also Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious if you want) 

Summer Nights (Grease)

And for the REALLY advanced peeps out there, I present to you music scores with hardly any context

Rescuing Penny (Bolt) - You know, the song when Bolt is saving Penny from the burning building? You know where I’m going with this ;)

Just about any song from Fantasia 2000 - Just rewatch the movie and I’m sure you’ll know what I mean

[johobi]

When You Least Expect It | 09

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung

Word count: 11.6k

Warnings: depression, anxiety, a very vague allusion to self-harm, graphic, penetrative sex, vulgar language etc.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732419/navigate

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to edit!!

Next: 10 || WYLEI Masterlist

You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last-ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

The three days following that ill-omened evening passed with as much ease as a spell in the Underworld. You could have been swayed into believing that that was where you were now sentenced, perpetually, to reside, but for your familiarly unextraordinary surroundings. The Black Dog had become Cerberus, and tirelessly upheld your condemnation. Never too far astray, and possessed, always, of a voracious appetite for your misery, the hound snuck its way into the sanctuary of your home and watched you reduce to a melancholic soup between the stale, rumpled sheets of your seldom-left bed.

And you still functioned, yes – to the casual eye. But only to deter interrogation over that most unbearable of subjects. Adopting a frivolous front was so mentally taxing, that you attended only those obligations that demanded your appearance. Like at work, for example. Your sole method of coping, there, came in the form of the new hire Hoseok presented to you on Day One, Post-Taehyung.

In the wake of such devastation, it was far easier to assume a different role; a different life.

So, on Day One, you became The Trainer. The Trainer was bubbly, comedically clumsy and ever so relieved to have the extra pair of hands. Even Hoseok loved The Trainer. So much so, you began to wonder if he preferred her to the real you. The you that slept little, ate less, and, when at home, did nothing. Even when the roots of your hair came to shine like you’d been baptised in a font of grease, you did nothing. And when the blank page of your perennially unstarted assignment began to blend in with the walls surrounding it, you did nothing then, either.  

On Day Two, as you lay there in the comforting—for its sheer suffocation—murk of your apartment, the laptop winked its final goodbye as it gave up hope.

And on Day Three, the day that should not have been Day Three but the date with Jungkook you had so been looking forward to, you gave up hope.

As the intervals between his determined door-knocking grew, hailing his weakening will, the path to him felt far too long; far too treacherous to tread. The exhaustion that dogged you saw corridors and rooms outstretch the paltry floorspace detailed in your tenancy agreement, casting Jungkook beyond reach.

You would never make it.

The rapping stopped.

So, this was loneliness. Four blank walls and sour-smelling sheets.

You rolled over, eager to succumb to the lethargy that lapped at your toes. That buffered you from the vulturous circling of your more serrated thoughts.

But then you saw him. Saw his kind, softly-sloping features. A face that granted you succour for its sheer existence.

Your phone cast you in a cool glow, not far removed from your waxen complexion. Jungkook vibrated incessantly, and would not go unignored. When his attempt to reach you passed its fourth minute, the gamble of picking up had your heart hammering. If you answered, what would you be met with? An anger that burned so hot, it could disintegrate what fragile matter of you that remained? You just didn’t have the strength.

But if you didn’t, Jungkook would be gone.

Just like him.

And the crippling fear of that possibility had your thumb swiping in a panic-stricken fumble to admit his call. “H-Hello?” you mumbled, voice uneven for its prolonged disuse.

“____?” came Jungkook’s sweet, agreeable – oh, so, so agreeable – tones. They cracked under concern. “Noona, are you okay? Where are you? I’m at your apartment, like we arranged.”

No, you hadn’t even possessed the decency to cancel the meeting you knew you would never make it to. But that’s what you did, when things became unbearable. Avoided them. Like you did, now, with anyone or anything related to the man who had cut you to ribbons. Even Yoongi, who, by mere association, had become painful to be in the presence of.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you rasped flatly. “I’m not feeling well. Hiking is too much.”

The fury would come, any second now. You didn’t even care to brace for it. Just a hope remained, that it would push you a stage past numb and into an anaesthetised utopia.

But it didn’t. Only warmth trickled forth from the speaker. “That’s okay, noona. We don’t have to go hiking. Are you sick?”

“Yeah, something like that that,” you mumbled, as indistinct as the enigma of an answer you’d given.  Had you the strength, you’d have berated yourself for harbouring reservations about expressing your mental anguish to him. Jungkook had, after all, sworn himself to be nothing but a willing ear to your woes. As always, though, your reluctance to add to his burdensome load prevented you from voicing them. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Wise to your tendency for deflection, however, he wouldn’t allow you to withhold it from him. “Not feeling well in yourself?”

Such a gentle, considerate way to put it. Dare you say, the faintest of somethings tickled your necrotic heart? Maybe it was still capable of sensation. “No, not at all. I’ve been having some very bad days.”

A sigh filtered through your phone, but it wasn’t one of frustration. Nor despondency, which you feared more. “Noona, I know you have this thing where you feel like you have to keep everything to yourself, but even when we can’t be together in person, I’m at the end of a line, at the very least,” was Jungkook’s tender appeal to you. “Texting is great at hiding emotion, because I had no idea you were struggling. That, or I’m an idiot and should have realised.”

“You’re not an idiot,” you immediately dismissed such undeserving slander.  “I mislead you on purpose. I was trying to dig my own way out of this hole, but, uh,” you cast a despairing look around the disarray surrounding you. “That didn’t happen. Sorry.”

Jungkook was swift to scold you. “Stop apologising, seriously. We don’t have to go hiking, but I don’t want to leave you alone—I mean, unless you want to be alone, that is,” he added hastily. He was trying so hard to say the right thing. A blooming warmth began to thaw you. “But I don’t want to leave you alone. I want to be with you. We could just spend the day inside and chill out? That sounds just as appealing to me.”

You surprised yourself. Spurning his company had seemed like a dead cert. “No, I don’t want to be alone. But you can’t come in, my place is a fucking pig sty and I’m—I’m embarrassed.”

At your confession, he addressed you with an impassioned softness. “Noona,” he murmured, the word like a velvet-wrapped embrace as it kissed your ear drums. “There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. But, I understand, and I won’t ask to come in. Why don’t you come to my place?”

Now that it was he himself proposing it to you, the prospect of a fresh environment and more Jungkook became the only appealing suggestion to broach your shroud of gloom since its descension over you. Nothing could be better for you than to gain distance from the pungency of unlaundered clothes and the ecosystem that now thrived in your kitchen sink. You grasped the opportunity with both hands. “I-I’d love to. That sounds like a really nice idea. Can I have, like, ten minutes to make myself somewhat presentable? I’m sor—”

“Of course,” Jungkook cut through your forthcoming apology. He wasn’t having it today. “Take as long as you want. I’ll be waiting in my car, okay?”

“Okay,” you hugged the phone closer with both hands. “Thank you, Jungkook. Really.”

“It’s cool. Selfish, really. I wanted to see you so badly,” he admitted with a bashful chuckle, the pure noise summoning the makings of a smile to your face. And thank God, because you’d been convinced future appearances of the expression would prove elusive.

It was imperative that he knew this. “I wanted to see you, too. I really did, I was just—so—I don’t know. Well, you do know. And you didn’t give up and leave me to it. You could have done, probably should have, but—”

“Stop, noona. Go get yourself ready, and—” Jungkook paused to draw in a sharp, excited breath. “Hey, why not get some stuff together to do some baking? Not that I’m any good at it, but I know how much you love it. Why don’t you show me how to make something?”

A faint chuckle threatened to shake free the device you clasped so weakly. Jesus, you really needed to eat something soon. “That does sound fun. You probably won’t have all the utensils I’ll need, so I’ll bring what I can. Uh, just—”

“Hm?”

“I look like shit, so try not to look too horrified when you see me,” you rushed out with a grimace that couldn’t be seen, but felt all too well in your self-deprecative humour. Even as physically and emotionally weak as you were, you were incapable of giving yourself a much-needed break from criticism, no matter how undue. Indeed, had you been laid out on your death bed at this very moment, dragging in your penultimate breaths, you’d likely be apologising to Jungkook for the haggardness of your appearance, or how abrasive to the ears your final gasps might be. “I’ll try and lessen the damage if I can,” you continued, though the appeal of applying make-up was a zero on a scale of I can’t even be bothered to breathe to Do I really have to comb my hair?

Now Jungkook was frustrated. But only enough to target you with a playful chastisement. One that had you swooning like a silent movie starlet. “Don’t you dare, or I’ll come up there and throw you over my shoulder before you have a chance to,” he warned with an authoritative growl. “Just keep yourself comfortable. We’ll probably get messy anyway, I’m notoriously clumsy with food. Especially if I’m wearing a white shirt, which I am.”

“Okay, okay,” you relented, his encouragement invigorating your faltering limbs enough to haul yourself from bed. You fished around in the pile of clothes that, while a little creased, were still unworn. “I’ll get my ass into gear. I’ll be down soon.”

“’Kay. I’m just outside,” was his parting comment before he hung up.

One brisk shower, a hesitantly adorned romper and a perilously pinned bun later, you were ready. Well, not ready, as such, because you still considered your appearance lacking, but Jungkook’s sternly-worded warning rang in your ears and prevented you from making further embellishments. Bare- and fresh-faced was how he was going to receive you. Okay, so maybe not fresh, more weeklong, sequestered neglect-faced, but at least it was bare, as ordered.

Having haphazardly shoved into a box what culinary implements and ingredients you could think to bring, you hauled the cargo with great difficulty down the narrow staircase descending. Your choice of flats afforded you, at least, the agility to catch yourself on the next step when you nearly met your neck-breaking end a few times.

With an incredibly unattractive scowl, you sandwiched the box between the wall and your body as you fumbled with the lock, and wore the expression still when the door opened into Jungkook’s immediate face. Abruptly, you wiped your features free of their unsightly crumpling and, quite of their own accord, found them curving to accommodate a giddy smile. One he wrenched from you with such ease. And giddy, because how the fuck did he get more beautiful with each meeting? The party felt so long ago now, but in reality, it had only been a week or so. The heart — and, indeed, the eyes — evidently grow fonder with time. “Jungkook, I thought you were going to wait in the car? You made me jump.”

“Sorry,” your guts twisted at the crooked grin he slapped on as he immediately relieved you of your load. “I thought you might need help carrying stuff.”

Forever obliging to lighten your figurative and physical strains, Jungkook’s attentiveness sent you into an inward flap. And the re-emergence of his beautiful fucking buck-teeth only intensified the party-for-one taking place in your stomach. Luckily, you were adept at channelling an outward serenity. “Thank you,” was your predictably unimaginative response. Honestly, he deserved so much more than that – not just for carrying a stupid box –  but the words to express complex sentiment often abandoned you.

One side of his mouth pitched higher as he led you to his car. “Wow, this is a lot of stuff. Are we preparing a seven-course meal?” he jibed, gently setting the culinary collection into the trunk. He treated even the most inanimate of objects with the care and consideration with which he handled you, as though he considered anything by proxy just as precious. Why, exactly, had you been so unwilling to spend this day with him, again? Free from insidious thought – momentarily, at least –and rooted in the reality of his uplifting presence, the hopelessness of 30 minutes ago seemed lifetimes past.

Jungkook caught your quiet smile as he darted around the car with an adamance to hold open its door for you. “There she is,” he grinned openly when you neared him, hands on hips. “I love your dress, by the way. You look beautiful, as ever.”

“Oh my God, stop,” you groaned, plopping into your seat with a huff and whipping the seatbelt around you. “And it’s not a dress, it’s a romper.”

He closed the door and leaned through the open window to scrutinise the garment in question. “I don’t know what that is.”

It was the most throwaway of comments, but it tore a bark of laughter from you, as though he’d hammered on your chest to extract it from you himself. It was an odd, but welcome, sound. “That’s so funny, and I don’t even know why.”

Giggles continued to hijack you as Jungkook rounded the car and took to the driver’s seat, an eyebrow hooked high in amusement. “If I just say random words, will you laugh?”

“No,” you were perceptibly shaking, now, exposing you for the flimsiness of your denial. And even when you perched an elbow on the door to better adhere a hand to your mouth, it did little to stifle the string of hiccups you were now stricken with. Your chest ached for each sharp intake of breath they prompted. “Fuck, I can’t s—hyuh!—stop!”

As the engine turned over, Jungkook adopted a brassy voice that was comedically dissonant from his usual, reserved tone. He strained his vocal chords into breaking. “Cucumber, squash—oh, this fucking car—moist, cheese, moist cheese,” a hyena-like cackle, interspersed by loud, abrupt squeaks, resounded as your attempts to hinder the noises fell flat. His unrelated interjection — as passionately voiced as the rest of his nonsense recital — only heightened the hilarity of the situation.

“Fuck,” you tittered, wiping away a tear born, for once, from something other than melancholy. “You’re—hup—insane.”

Jungkook yelled victoriously when the car finally growled to life. “I was getting worried, there.”

A snigger. “Yeah, me too. Not for the car, though.”

“I’ve got more where that came from,” he tongued his cheek like the appealing bastard he didn’t know he was, peering behind the both of you to check for blind spots. As he pulled away: “Especially if I get to hear more of your ridiculously adorable hiccups.”

Your cheeks bulged with captive air. “Please, no,” you sighed, releasing a long, restorative breath. When no further hiccups came, you wrapped your stomach in a wary hug. “I’m aching. Sounds like your car’s on its way out, though.”

Jungkook’s face fell slightly. “It is. I’ve been told to expect it. I can’t afford anything else, though, and it’s already had some emergency maintenance,” you watched, distracted, the way his mouth puckered and slackened as it shaped every enchanting syllable. Receptive to the allure of the sight, your lips parted in harmony.  “It won’t go on for much longer. I’m looking for better paid work, actually.”

That drew you back. “You’re leaving the school?”

“It’s not that I want to,” Jungkook nibbled on his lower lip like the long-eared mammal he so endearingly resembled. “I don’t have much of a choice. I won’t be able to afford rent, soon. The car trouble is only adding to the list of money troubles I’m having. And I really don’t wanna be stuck in this situation for too much longer,” his addendum was voiced with an understandable, though subtle, distress.

You wanted to draw his hand into a consolatory hold, but it was more pressingly occupied. “I’m really sorry to hear that. I know how tough things can get.”

Jungkook delivered a heartening slap to your bare thigh, sending you rocketing up in your seat. “Don’t worry, I’m surviving. To be honest, I was doubtful of whether I was going to bother sticking around this city. Until I met you,” the volume of his admission plunged dangerously close to a whisper. He stole a meaningful glance your way, the coyest of smirks twitching upward his mouth. Jungkook had an aptitude for pulling off such contradictory expressions. “Moving away from home definitely seemed like the best decision at the time, but I began to doubt it a couple of months ago. When I got poor, basically,” he snickered. “Things are really tough on your own.”

The breath you’d been inadvertently holding since the – by no means unwelcome – introduction of his hand, flowed free. “Right? Bit of a culture shock. I should’ve gotten a roommate, really, but my studio is just about manageable.”

Your heart fluttered to an unsteady rhythm when Jungkook became conscious of where his fingers were so intimately situated. Lingering along the innermost of your thigh, they skimmed the supple flesh beneath them as he corrected the bold manoeuvre and removed them entirely. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he begged his pardon with a clear of his throat, eyes glued a little too firmly to the road.

“Now it’s my turn to tell you off for apologising,” your lips plucked up slyly. “Not after the things we’ve been talking about. Anyway,” you drizzled the last word with a stomach-turning sweetness. “What were you saying about not sticking around until you met me?”

Jungkook’s flushing subsided somewhat with the diversion from altogether more sordid topics. “It’s simple, really. I want to stay here, now. Because of, uh, you,” but ruby kissed his cheeks all the more avidly for the heart-pounding proclamation.

God, you needed to kiss him.

Unfortunately, unless a kiss was worth the certain, gory decapitation the distraction would bring, you’d have to go hungry.

And you were positively starving.

You clenched fists around your seatbelt, like you didn’t trust it to hold you in place for much longer. However, even if your traitorous hands didn’t uproot the meddlesome restraint, the blaze of adoration raging against your ribcage would easily incinerate it. “Wow,” was your eloquent response.

Jungkook didn’t allow you to elaborate. “I—I mean, don’t think that I’m putting pressure on you to like me, or anything—”

“Fuck’s sake,” you growled, all a shackled beast burning with the frustration of being denied its master’s touch. Jungkook’s eyes widened fretfully. “I really gotta kiss you right now, but I can’t. You’re driving.”

The heated exclamation alone was enough for him to momentarily forget the importance of steering the death contraption you were both belted into. When you realised he was no longer adhering to the highway code, but instead lavishing you with a protracted, open-mouthed ogling, you pushed his face frontward. As heart-stopping as Jungkook was, the magnetism of his stare would, for sure, guarantee your collision with something far more fatal than each other. Nevertheless, he spent much of his time casting you vital, sidelong looks. “I—I can stop. I can stop right now. I can pull over right here.”

Your head hit the headrest with a dull thump, overcome with mirth for his urgency. “We have all day. Keep driving, I have some refrigerated stuff in the back.”

Jungkook emitted a desirous whine. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“Tough,” you snapped merrily, spotting a camera case in the backseat as your eyes perused its hazardously stacked contents. Guilt gored you when you caught sight of his thoughtfully-packed backpack. He’d clearly been prepared for your originally intended date activities. “You brought your camera, after all.”

He peered over his shoulder. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Well, now I can take pictures of you in the comfort of my own home, instead.”

Turning in your seat, you propped your chin upon the heel of your hand. There was no way you could let pass such a fortuitous opportunity to see him squirm. “Yeah? What kind?”

His mouth hung open a fraction at the bait, but avoided the snare. “Whatever you like. You’re my muse.”

The sincerity of the compliment threw off your sultry play. You’d never met a guy who countered coquetry with kindliness. Undefeated in all your many bouts of flirtation thus far, Jungkook was the only one to frequently give you pause. Who knew your Achilles heel was not, in fact, obscenities so appalling that Eros himself would recoil in revulsion, but plain old flattery? Flattery that spilled with such liberty from behind those exasperatingly darling teeth? “Stop being so nice.”

“Why do you always say that?” his brows met in bemusement. “It’s as if no-one’s ever treated you the way they should.”

He had no idea how close that hit to home. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just particularly kind.”

“I’m not,” the furrow deepened. “Sounds like you dated some douchebags.”

“Quite a few,” you began, then thought better of elaboration. Jungkook didn’t need to hear the true extent of your hormone-fuelled regrets. “But that doesn’t matter, now. You’re opening my eyes to a lot of things.”

“I’ll take that as your roundabout way of admitting that you really like me and wanna spend all your time with me. Forever,” Jungkook’s jesting crinkled the corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

And, yes, you did.

Because you no longer wanted a life that was absent of something so diminutive, so tremendous, as the way his features puckered around joy. You wanted to watch those creases, with time, score themselves between his brows and atop his cheekbones.

And you wanted to be the one who engraved them there.

“Forever is a long time,” you cautioned with a wink. But inside, you were already living it.

You were enamoured.  

When he parked beside an obnoxiously up-market apartment complex, you presumed it was to grab some snacks from the gentrified establishments opposite. However, as he lugged the box of utensils to your window, he ducked his head in, confused. “Why aren’t you getting out?”

“Wait, you live here?” you gawped, eyeballing the building that emanated affluence. “No wonder you’re fucking broke!”

As you exited the car, mouth still unflatteringly ajar, Jungkook developed a sudden interest in the – miraculously unblemished – paving beneath your feet. As one of the great unwashed, you felt at risk of apprehension for even daring to tread there. “It’s nowhere near as expensive as it looks, but, yeah. All my savings are gone. I didn’t really budget all that well, but I kinda left home in a hurry. This was the first place I could find.”

Was he really that naïve about financial matters? “Why not just downsize, then?”

“The landlord won’t release me from my contract. I have another six months left on it,” he huffed in vexation, tapping a six-digit code into the pad adjoining the gate. With a buzz as grating as the needlessly extravagant entrance it controlled, the lock released. Jungkook stood aside, stubborn in his chivalry, to allow you entry. “If you ever wanna get in, the code is 093457. Can you remember that?”

Wow.

Without a whisper of doubt fogging his eyes, he’d placed a ghost of a key in your palm. Like it was of no more significance than those digits of his stored in your phone.

Boy, things were progressing rather quick.

And you were clinging, white-knuckled, to the front seat of this rollercoaster as it barrelled down a track conspicuously free of obstacles, squealing for it to go faster. The opportunity to alight had long since passed. All you could do now was throw up your hands and scream. “I think I can, yeah. Thank you. I’ll make sure to come here in the middle of the night to relieve you of all the rich-people possessions you probably own.”

As you entered the lobby, as plush and immaculate as it could only have been, Jungkook ushered you into one of the immediate elevators. The cubicle alone, less of walls and more of mirrored panelling – you know, so you can better appreciate how wealthy you look when en route to brunch with dahling Cressida – was bigger than your only bathroom.

“I’m far from rich,” he muttered into the box staunchly cradled to his chest. A billow of powder stirred under the gust of his breath. Looks like the flour didn’t survive the journey. “Not anymore. My parents are, though. Maybe that’s why it was hard to let that lifestyle go. I made a lot of mistakes learning, that’s for sure. Still am,” was his barely audible addition.

You stood a little straighter. This was his first time mentioning more than their existence in passing. “Why did you decide to leave?”

“They started pressuring me into things,” the offering was vague and ominous in tone. Eyes rising to the mirror image of him opposite, Jungkook engaged his counterpart in a steely staredown. “Business stuff. I didn’t want anything to do with it.”

The hum of the ascending elevator filled the hush left by your introspective pause. “You’re not part of a family-run crime syndicate, are you?” you posed, only half-joking.

Jungkook’s scowl broke with a bob of his shoulders. His laugh could be corked and peddled as a cure-all. And you’d be first in line. “No, it’s not quite that bad. Though, that’d probably be infinitely cooler than the reality. My parents—well, my father—is the head of a pretty large conglomerate. My mother is a member of the board.”

Your eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere. “Whoa. Hella rich, then.”

“Hella? Have you been playing Life is—”

“—Strange? Absolutely. I’m hella fond of that word, now,” you expressed that fondness with a toothy grin that tripled his. But your glee faltered somewhat when you recollected his earlier visitation of your apartment. “Shit, and you’ve been in my hovel of an apartment. I bet that must’ve been like dumpster diving.”

With a ding of announcement, the lift drifted to a halt. Taking the lead again, Jungkook shook his head. And like a cat stalking the metallic shimmy of a bell-toting toy, your eyes snapped to the quiver of his helix piercings. There wasn’t a thing about this man that wasn’t sexy as fuck. “I loved it so much I considered asking to move in as soon as I stepped foot inside.”

You rolled your eyes at his back. “Let’s swap, then. What do you have, a three-bedroom? Four?”

Jungkook crowed. “Okay, I’m stupid with money, but I’m not that stupid. It only has one bedroom. As you’re about to see,” he gestured to the door he now stood before. “Can you take this for a sec?”

“Sure, I should be carrying it anyway,” you relieved him of the box that clanked with the promise of sweet concoctions. “Did you just say I’m about to see your bedroom?”

He fished in the pockets of his jeans for his keys and, with a smooth turn of burnished brass, let you into the awaiting opulence. “I—I meant the apartment,” he spluttered, and you watched, with a kittenish smirk, the tips of his ears tinge red. “You know what I meant.”

“So, are you famous enough for me to Google y—whoa.”

Okay, so it wasn’t on the same scale as Yoongi’s gratuitous bachelor pad, but it was sumptuous all the same. “Nice,” you whistled, your focus fastening to the splendour beneath your feet.  Rich, restored mahogany kissed your unworthy soles – something you were all too aware of, as you hastily slipped off your scuffed excuses for shoes –  and played host to a number of tastefully-placed shag rugs. Rugs that just cried out to be rolled on. You eyed one, transfixed, a cat again. A cat that had located its next nap spot.

Juxtaposed with the knife-point angles and frigid decor of Yoongi’s apartment that so became him, Jungkook’s was warm- toned, with soft furnishings and of a lived-in air that appealed to you immensely. “This is probably how I’d decorate my place if I had any money,” you lauded, resembling a Nodding Dog for all your vague head-bobbing. “I like it.”  

Like Yoongi’s, though, Jungkook’s apartment was open-plan but for the bedroom and bathroom tucked away to the side. Shafts of light, streaming from a slanted glass wall – a fixture imposing in its sheer immensity – brought forth golden tones latent in the dark wood. The sight further compelled you to flop down, belly-up, and bask, feline-like, in the warmth of its glow.

Jungkook deposited the the box – its contents, now, as tossed as a salad – on the asymmetrical countertop of his rustic breakfast bar. And with an expectant hand poised to catch his four-digit camera, he shrugged the strap free from his shoulder. “I’m glad you like it,” his voice took on that fondness for you that you could never quite understand.

What, in all actuality, did he see in you?

When you had drunk in your legal limit of his pleasantly sedative abode, you turned to him, giddy. His eyes played on you, cryptically astir at having won your acclaim. Chin in hand, he propped himself against the counter, looking nothing short of smitten. “I’m glad you like me.”

The boy had a talent for sending you off-kilter.

You tugged at the hem of your shapeless one-piece, jerking your head at the wonder of his affection. “I don’t understand why, but I’m glad you like me, too.”

“Don’t make me list the reasons, or we’ll be standing here all day,” he cracked over his shoulder as he rattled his way around an array of hammered-gold cannisters. Lifting each one free of its lid in turn, he peered dubiously into their depths. “I can never remember what’s what, here. You want coffee? Tea? Something else?”

“Just some water, thanks,” you croaked. God, you sounded like shit. Like a frog had taken up permanent residence in your windpipe and insisted on strumming your vocal chords for you. “I’m trying to keep away from caffeinated drinks at the moment.”

“Ah, of course,” Jungkook acknowledged with a click of his fingers. You watched with a vested interest as he rolled up the sleeves of his—indeed, white, and imminently on course for soiling—sweatshirt to oblige you. A succession of dulcet half-murmurs and airy croons drifted past his lips.

Fucking hell, he could sing, too?

“Voice of an angel,” you muttered, more an aside than anything, but the volume of your contemplation was enough for him to hear. With the full weight of his stare pinning you in place, you threw one of your own, much heavier, at the works of Bernini he called legs. “Thighs of a devil.”

Jungkook turned to the sink, a suppressed grin warping the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t realise I was singing.”

“Oh, you didn’t realise you were singing,” you pitched deeper to mimic him. “You just happen to have a voice that explains the immaculate conception, and you didn’t even realise you were using it. I see,” in a mannerism most certainly acquired from Jungkook, your tongue planted itself firmly in your cheek. “It’s not like you were trying to show off for me, anything.”

Whatever danced in the dark depths of Jungkook’s eyes, then, hit your circulatory system like a stimulant. “You’re asking for it,” was his harbinger of a warning.

You drew sullen circles into the countertop, jutting your lip to bait his scrutiny. “For what?”

The devious twitch of his lips was tacit enough. Leaving you to braise in the juices of your own undoing, he returned to the task at hand; your all but forgotten glass of water. 

With a flurry of excitement, you pulled objects indiscriminately from the box, not caring where or with how much might you unloaded them. Your attention was better spent elsewhere, namely leering at the prominent veins that scaled Jungkook’s arms like ivy. When you tracked their descent to his generous hands, wet from the faucet, your want for him manifested in a bitten bottom lip.

“What are we making?” Jungkook startled you out of your indecent introspection, catching you on the edge of exposure. His lips curled tellingly. “Something sweet?”

“Something creamy,” was your proposal, steeped in suggestion. For some reason, Jungkook seemed oblivious to the water now surging over the rim of the glass. “I’m thinking a pavlova, because I’ve forgotten a lot of things. Got lots of eggs, though!”

Not a glint of recognition. “I don’t know what that is, either. I’m not doing great today, huh?”

“You’re doing just perfect,” you hushed him, taking the proffered drink. There was about as much clinging to the exterior of the glass as there was inside it. Looking up from the bowels of your emptied box, you affixed a sceptical smirk. “You don’t have an electric whisk, by any chance?”

Jungkook scratched at the back of his head. An imagined itch, to be sure; the gesture another of his wholesomely appealing habits. “Nope. I’m not exactly Gordon Ramsay, I’m sorry to say.”

“Then I’m gonna need your big, strong, man-arms, probably. Beating eggs is fucking exhausting.” 

Flipping open the dozen you’d successfully remembered to bring with, you cracked one against the rim of your mixing bowl with a precision and fluidity that impressed Jungkook enough to provoke a gasp.

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen anyone do that except on TV,” he gaped, studying the art of yolk separation in an awed trance. He could catch flies with the amount of air exposure his mouth was getting.

And there he went again, affecting you in the smallest, most trivial of ways.

Teasing him was fast becoming a prized pastime. “You’ve never seen anyone break an egg before, Jungkook? Do you just live on instant ramen, or something?”

The swipe was barely glancing, but he played up the wound with the eyes of a Disney critter. “First of all, yes, I have seen someone break an egg. You know exactly what I meant. And, second of all, this is exactly what I was talking about.”

“What is?” you chuckled, siphoning your fourth egg into the awaiting gloop.

“All the bad things you say are gonna get you into trouble, one day.”

You stilled. That was a very direct attack. So direct, your pussy throbbed in the wake of its impact.

Feigning virtue was always fun. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m just crackin’ some eggs.”

Jungkook’s silhouette loomed closer. “You wanted me to beat something for you?”

Whisk in hand, your knees felt dangerously close to knocking themselves out and rendering you a floor-bound Salmonella risk. Unprepared for this lobbying of impurity, it took you a second longer than you’d prefer to formulate a counterattack. “I’ll need to see how capable you are, first.”

Yeah, not your best.

Jungkook, however, took it as his cue to mold himself to your back, granting your upper arms an explicit squeeze with the hands you were so fucking obsessed with. The sleevelessness of your romper had been a point of internal contention for you in your earlier clothing deliberation, but now it was the most valued of selections. You experienced, unobstructed, the softness of his unmarred palms as they ghosted down your arms’ reach and engulfed your fingers whole. Never had you felt so delicate as you did, then, swallowed in the expanse of his strapping hands.

Decisively, he plucked the implement from your slackening grip and hauled the bowl closer to him. Or you, rather, a little too comfortably wedged between the pressure of his body and the countertop that never asked to be part of this charged exchange. The warm, sturdy enclosure within which Jungkook held you captive tightened when he began whipping the bowl’s contents with a strength that struck you dumb. Like a primitive ape, you fawned over your mate's show of power, because the display was nothing if not to titillate you into a hard, dirty rutting.

And, fuck, you wanted that.

You leered, mesmerised, at the succulent bulge of tendon and vein alike as his hands whisked up a storm, his biceps rhythmically buffeting your shoulders with the effort of the motion. Hot breath met your ear, liquefying your entire being. “How’s this?”

“G-Good,” you couldn’t have given him a more vivid, greener light. All that he did piqued the fierce interest of your every nerve ending. And that was a reality all too apparent in the collecting slick coating the crotch of your panties. You should have been adding some sugar to the eggs around about now, but honestly, who gave a fuck about that anymore? “Until it forms stiff peaks.”

Jungkook pulled the whisk from the mixture to test its consistency, but didn’t return to the task when it proved unsatisfactorily blended. Instead, he dropped the implement into the creamy mess and seized, suddenly, the clothed swell of your breasts, adamant on turning you into a creamy mess, apparently. The switch in intent caught you wholly unawares. Like a boneless fish, you flopped into his built physique, lolling your head against his broad span of shoulder. “Oh, f-fuck.”

The fabric of your one-piece wasn’t the thickest. With impressively able hands, he kneaded you like dough, plying you into a putty that bulged from between the gaps of his wolfish grip. It wasn’t long before you were rising to readiness, a glaze streaking the space between your legs. 

Jungkook was priming you for consumption. 

His thumbs grazed to and fro over your budding nipples, wakening them to the chafe of your outer layer. “Feel pretty stiff to me,” he practically purred into the nape of your neck, his lips brushing a template of where he would later revisit. “I’d say you’re done.”

And from the burgeoning bulge making known its presence at the crack of your ass, you’d say he was about done, too.

A hand ventured lower, and then higher, as it slid surreptitiously beneath the hem of your shorts. “Do you want me to keep going?” Jungkook near-whispered, pausing his pilgrimage to your saturated cunt. You craned your neck, with some difficulty, to face him. “If you don’t want this today, I can stop.”

A dazed smile. “I want it. Today. Now,” and, bonding your lips in a kiss that should never have been broken on that night on the balcony, the heated, humid rejoining drew a muzzled moan from the both of you. Immersed, again, in the ambrosia of each other’s unfastened mouths, the steady undulation of Jungkook’s jaw as he received you felt as innate as your own heartbeat. How quickly he had attuned himself to your motions, your tempo; and, with a studious tongue, taken such an intimate cast of your mouth, knowing, already, how best to tease whimpers from you. Together you drowned, caught in a sea of saliva and amassed lust. Lust built from weeks of needless principle.

Oh, why had you waited so long, when this was nothing but right?

The potency of your monstrous, reciprocal desire now unleashed, it spurred your hands, your tongues, to paths they were keen to retread.

Jungkook was particularly quick in infiltrating that one part of you that begged for reunion. But despite his haste to submerse his fingertips in your gooey delight, he skimmed the outskirts of your panties with an infuriating lightness. He tore away from the kiss as though scorched. “You’re already this soaked?” he exclaimed, tormented, knocking his forehead to yours like the revelation had physically weakened him. “How are you so fucking sexy, noona?”

“It’s all you,” there was no need for exaggeration. Not when him simply broaching the meagre cotton barrier snatched the neediest of whimpers from you. Feeling his fingertips glide along the curve of your slippery slit, you briefly fretted that spontaneous human combustion may not merely be a myth. Because as he slathered himself with your syrupy, fervent welcome, you swore you were the pyre of a building inferno. “Don’t you dare tease me, Jungkook, you’ve gotten me so fucking horny,” was your urgent warning, coasting close to shrill. “Put those goddamn fingers--that you know I’ve been fantasising about--inside me, already.”

A husky chuckle tickled the nerve endings spanning your shoulders, every centimetre of your skin pining for the touch of his supple mouth. Kisses that he generously gave, but sprinkled chaotically, like he didn’t want to neglect any one part of you. The cupid’s bow that dipped his upper lip assailed you with volleys of heated adoration, riling you into a squirm that only pressed you closer to the tip of his other, drawn, weapon. “You mean, these?”

Oh how easily they sunk into you; two at once, with an immediacy that spoke volumes of Jungkook’s desire to touch the lining of your most sensitive parts. He half-hummed, half-whined his approval for having been re-embedded in the heat and squeeze of a place his cock wished it could inhabit. For now, it was forced to experience your narrow reaches vicariously, through the nubile probing of his fingers. Jungkook was bewitched. “You feel like fucking heaven, fuck.”

His dick twitched impatiently, pressed flush to your backside as it was. And, though cosy in the pressure with which your asscheeks provided, it answered to a higher call, now; your warm, throbbing pussy. You rocked against his languid insertion, more exploratory than possessed by hunger. It seemed Jungkook had become lost to the wonder of your calculated constriction, each tense of muscle prying further open his mouth and eyes. You snickered at his wonderstruck expression. “Never had your fingers this deep in a girl’s pussy, Jungkook?”

“Not one as delicious as this,” he shot back, leaving an aching void in the wake of his exit. Poised to question his knowledge of your taste, he spun you around so you could better view his sampling. He drew the drenched digits to his mouth, their savoury topping bridging the gap between as gooey strings that lit up his eyes in anticipation. As easily as he had buried them in your sopping cunt, he dipped them past the seal of his lips with an agonised crumple to his brow, like he was partaking of some tantalising elixir he’d been forbidden to let touch his tongue. “I knew it,” he murmured thickly, sucking clean his fingers and allowing your essence to titillate his tastebuds. “You taste as good as you smell, and as hot as you look.”

Enthralled by the vision of him drinking from you with all the reverence of a wizened man supping up the Fountain of Youth, the tail-end of his ardent declaration stole your attention enough to tickle you. “I don’t think it’s possible to taste hot? Unless that wasn’t water I showered with earlier, but sriracha,” you teased, slinging your arms haphazardly around his neck. You did so to close the far too vast a distance between your bodies, but, hands upon your ass and subjecting it to a voracious, possessive squeeze, he was already mashing you to him. Your romper may as well have been non-existent for all the dulling of sensation it granted you. When the top of your mound thudded lightly to the rock-hard protrusion reaching for you from behind Jungkook’s jeans, it did nothing to diminish the utter, raw aching the contact inspired.

“Don’t sass me, noona,” the admonishment was stern, but breathless. “Am I gonna have to bend you over my knee?”

Fuck, the suggestion was enticing. Unfortunately, the drooling maw between your legs had no such patience. It demanded gratification. “Not this time, baby. You can punish me all you like later on. Right now, I need your cock,” you cooed, granting its straining outline the coaxing smooth of your palm.

Jungkook stiffened to a rigidity that could rival his dick. “Ugh—I like that,” was his softly moaned encouragement. “Again, please.”

“I haven’t stopped,” a lone brow raised in bemusement. To demonstrate, you increased the pressure you were applying to his captive length, enough friction to have him grinding into your hand like a randy buck.

“N-No, not that—ah,” you stole his gasp with your determined toying. “Well, that too, but—c-call me baby, again.”

Your other brow arched to match. “Oh? You like that, huh?”

Jungkook sobered a little in his self-consciousness. “Yeah,” the arousal that dusted his cheeks deepened into an irresistible scarlet. “I don’t know why, but, man, that hit a note.”

You caught him before he could pull away. “Then I like it too, baby,” the endearment dripped as obscenely from between your lips as the honey from your lower pair. “So fuck me, already.”

The seconds proceeding your demand hung heavy; almost beyond endurance. But then, in slow motion, you witnessed that sudden click; the wildness that pitched Jungkook’s eyes into an all-consuming blackness that entreated you to an amenable doom. The shiver of energy that shifted through him was near palpable; it resonated from the soles of his feet and upward, until, like a carnivore coiled to pounce, he hoisted you with ease onto the countertop.

With a vulgar smack, the backs of your thighs collided with solid oak, and, God, did you wish you’d taken up his earlier offer of some disciplining. The sting would tingle all the more beautifully for having been dispensed by his hefty palm. “You don’t need to ask me twice, noona,” he puffed, excitement rather than exertion stealing his breath. “I’ll give you the fucking you so desperately crave.”

Jungkook’s arms encased your torso, sheltering your heart better than the ribcage that so freely allowed Taehyung to penetrate. “Whoa,” you hiccupped, steadying yourself with a grasp that landed, fortuitously, on his tautened biceps. They shifted excitably beneath your hands. “What are you gonna do with me?”

Legs free and sprawling, you welcomed him into the space between with an invitation written in your tongue’s ink, blotting his girthy neck with saliva. 

An invitation he accepted wholeheartedly. 

With an appreciative grunt, the mass of his body bore down on and nearly—oh, so nearly—inside you, dancing on the fringes. 

You wanted him to invade you, claim and repurpose you. Dismantle your design; one so sorely built in error.

You would no longer be his, but Jungkook’s.

“So, so many things. But, first, I’m gonna give your pussy the beating it deserves,” he leered over you all stone-cold assertiveness, and you shrunk beneath his emanating power, both gut-squirmingly aroused and intimidated by the absence of the usual fumbled words and averted gazes.

He must have been practicing, you mused inwardly, allowing him this momentary victory over you with a sufficiently servile, doe-eyed pout. “Are you gonna let me see your pretty co—oh, fuck!” your yelp was consumed by a hacking cough, when one, misplaced hand catapulted the box whose only remaining contents consisted of the powdery residue left by your battered bag of flour. Your life, never having run the smoothest course, hit you with the timeliest derailments. This one presented itself as a billowy cloud that powdered most of you ghoulishly white. “Oh, God, look at me.”

Jungkook, who escaped relatively unscathed despite his proximity, cackled openly at your misfortune. But he didn’t surrender his hold of you; not even for a second. He only pulled you closer, marring himself to match. “You could be covered in anything right now and I would still be desperate to fuck you,” he stressed with a bow of his head, charting the topography of your sprinkled cleavage with a hot, open mouth, reducing the offending powder—and you, with every enthused flick of his tongue—to a streaky, viscous sludge. “You taste just as good when you’re a little salty.”

You wrinkled your nose at his willingness to ingest meal. “I guess you want this pretty bad, baby.”

Jungkook’s head shot up like he’d been conditioned into uninhibition on that one word’s command. “So bad,” he virtually snarled, scrambling to undress. Endowing you with your first, unfiltered view of his honed build, he yanked his sweatshirt free of his body, latching a smouldering gaze to you as soon as the obstruction was tossed aside. “Before you covered yourself in flour, I thought I heard a request?”

Your eyes trickled freely down his slopes of definition, steered into the trap that was Jungkook’s sublime anatomy. Cut, bronzed abs and a whisper of hair lay breadcrumbs to an outcropping so stark you could hang something off it. 

Hopefully you.

“You know what I want,” your tongue painted the outline of your lips as he unbuckled and whipped off his belt with a crack that had your cunt quivering for the lashings of its master’s crop.

“Tell me again,” Jungkook barely breathed, peeling down the zipper of his pants at a pace that was far too leisurely for your liking.

“You’re getting a bit too bossy for your own good,” you cautioned, though the substance of your warning disintegrated upon each, agitated breath.

Clearly, it was for your own good.

Jungkook’s fingers fell away from his front. “Tell me again,” he reiterated firmly.

How effortlessly he flitted between subservience and indubitable control. Hopefully the thorough flouring you’d sustained would stave off the likelihood of you completely adhering to his countertop in your current, sodden state.

The thrum of your clitoris compelled you into compliance. “Please, let me see your cock.”

A triumphant smirk sharpened his features. “That’s my good girl,” he hummed, tugging his boxers down enough to allow it to topple into his awaiting palm like a freshly felled tree. Reality was far more generous to him than the feeble fantasies you’d concocted, with increasing frequency, the last few weeks.  His arms weren’t the only appendages lovingly wrapped by veins, green and blue; powerlines supplying the monster that would soon be hollowing you.

Its perfectly pink head enraptured you. “God, you’re so hot—way too hot. I’m so fucking wet, Jungkook, you know I am. I’m so ready,” the sight of his fleshy offering stirred you into near-frenzy. So much so, you grasped for him without pretence; no longer did you possess the constitution to play ruler. “Fuck me, please.”

Jungkook’s calculated façade slipped when confronted with such raw need. He was on you before you could blink, inhaling you into a soul-sucking kiss that saw his tongue tickling the threshold to your throat. Was it possible to swallow and choke on someone else’s tongue?

If so, you gladly would.

He must have been in some state of severe desperation, because Jungkook spared no thought for your poor, flimsy romper as he yanked sharply at your shorts, inadvertently flossing your cunt with the seams. It should have been painful, in theory, and yet the angling strummed your clit to the tune of your resultant, yearnful moans. With a fistful of fabric, he paused suddenly, confused both by your fervid feedback and the stubborn garment that still adorned your body. “What the hell is this thing? Shorts? I thought it was a skirt,” his voice pitched with an adorable curiosity.

Yes, even now, cock out and teeming with pre-cum, he was adorable.

Tongue pinched between teeth, you giggled. “Yeah, and it’s all one thing. Gonna have to take it off in one go.”

With that, you sat straight, teasing two sets of straps down the round of your shoulders. Jungkook was your besotted audience of one, engrossed in your seductive shedding. His chest expanded with a sharp intake of breath when your bra peeled away from your breasts, tips painfully taut from his earlier bullying. “God,” was his succinct, but cock-felt response. And, sure enough, he watched the show unfold with a white-knuckled clench around said cock, spreading its drool the length of it through each your stages of undress.

Unclasping your bra with a fluidity born from nearly three decades of suffering the damned things, you threw the unwelcome item of clothing over Jungkook’s fruit bowl. And, with a jerk of your hips, disrobed yourself of what remained of your layers soon after—including a misguided choice in panties. In fairness, you’d hardly – having been wallowing in the depths of despair not an hour ago – been expecting his scrutiny. Not while you were spread-eagle and, with your fore and middle fingers scissoring the hood of your clit, beckoning him with your pussy like a wanton wench.

You eyed his vigorous pumping of his dick and tutted. “Baby, slow down. Are you that excited?”

Jungkook grunted past the lip caught between his teeth. “Fuck, yes. Ugh—” his gaze was unshakably fixed to the trail that oozed from your tender interior. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the utterance barely audible above the mouth-watering shlip of his rhythmic movements. Whether his comment had been for your ears, you didn’t know. But your confidence ballooned exponentially, banishing the skulk of inadequacy that had intermittently threatened your enjoyment.

Hooded eyes flew wide. “Wait,” Jungkook panted, stalling his overzealous strokes. “I-I don’t have a condom, I didn’t think—oh, no.”

Wow. He really had left this decision entirely in your hands, hadn’t he? Your abdomen crawled with a warmth not possessed of arousal. “I do,” you assured him, pointing to your purse. “In there.”

“Thank you, Jesus,” he muttered, shoulders sagging for the relief of your divulgement. “And you, of course,” was his snort of an aside as he pulled the accessory to him and rifled, behind thinly-veiled excitement, through its compartments. “Aha.”

It relieved you endlessly to witness him tear open the packet with his fingers, rather than his teeth. Every man you’d ever bedded that had been a teeth-tearer, had, without fail, vastly overestimated their sexual prowess. Jungkook’s concentrated fumbling only made your heart more buoyant. “Let me?”

He couldn’t have moved fast enough. Surrendering the wrapper immediately, he observed keenly, how adept you were at removing it. It could have been candy inside for all the pre-cum his dick was salivating, eager to don the sheathe that would allow him access to the sultry stretches of your vagina.

With a practiced pinch of the tip, you wrapped him from end to base in one soft, sweeping motion, never quite allowing him the gratification of a firm grip. He squirmed nonetheless, ostensibly overcome by both the feeling and realisation of having your touch grace his—very nearly—bare cock. “I wish you could fuck me raw,” you grumbled, never having been too fond of the taste or texture of latex, nor the hindrance it posed when all you wanted was to fully appreciate his silken skin as it caressed your insides.

That was, perhaps, the most provocative thing you could have said in that moment. Because Jungkook snapped to you like he was impelled by magnetic forces and, with a squeak of flesh on wood, pulled you to the very edge. The angered tip of his cock hovered directly beneath, inciting you to your grisly end by impalement. “Don’t say that to me right now, noona, or I won’t even survive putting it in. Jesus,” he ran splayed hands over the planes of your thighs, and thumbs along the pulse points that gushed, with urgency, to provide oxygen to parts of you that were fast becoming deprived.

“I’ll let you fill me right up one day,” you teased, hooking a leg around his waist and bringing your throbbing genitals into closer proximity. “But I won’t tell you when. I’ll just pull it off and shove you back in when you least exp—ungh!”

Jungkook silenced you with a hungry bruising of lips and teeth, delving his fingers into your backside to better guide you to the beacon that, now, stood sentinel between the seam of your pussy’s lips, coating itself in your plentiful excretions. He wrenched himself free of your oral dalliance. “Ready?”

As if your entire body wasn’t crying out for his fullness. God, you’d never experienced such a haunting ache between your legs. “I’ve been ready since date one, and failed date three is the extent of my self-control. Hurry, baby.”

And with a smooth rock of his hips, he eased his way past your slit and into the clamp of your unaccustomed cunt. The sharpness of penetration pushed a gasp from you, halting him immediately. “Are you okay?” he whispered to your lips, tracing each syllable with his hovering mouth.

You were okay.

More than.

Beyond okay.

It was formidable, the intensity of this moment. Skin-on-skin, simmering under a sheen of perspiration; the intimate, reassuring canopy of Jungkook’s weight, anchoring you to reality. 

And you needed that anchor, when it was nothing but an unreality that you were melding, after so long, with a man who returned your ardour. A man who pursued you, who desired you, who embraced you without pretence.

That first stab let flow months of unprocessed, pent-up loneliness and desire for companionship. For sexual affinity.

And as he bled you of pain, all that remained was a strengthening, terrifying appetite, brewing in the pit of your being. With an exuberant smile, you cupped the sides of his face. “I’ve never been better.”

Coaxed by the sincerity of your own words, you laxed around your gradual accommodation of Jungkook’s cock, permitting him to share your body; to become the vessel for his enjoyment. He gave in to the pull of your suckling pussy, a breath he had long been holding rushing free to flutter the wisps of hair around your face that had abandoned their hastily styled arrangement. And though it seemed to pain him, Jungkook steadfastly maintained the quiet, intimate exchange that passed between your torpid gazes. As consumed of lust as they were, the darkness that swallowed his eyes was not that same, meaningless, matte void you had seen stare back at you, time and time again. There glimmered, like an uncharted nebula, thousands of stars.

And every one bore your name; shone to be seen by you.

Jungkook allowed you that glimpse of tender emotion before body overrode heart. He pressed welts into your asscheeks with his boisterous grappling. “Noona—God—you’re so tight.”

And you felt it, too; how you hugged him so inflexibly. Your walls spread, burned around the circumference of his cock, hewn wider by Jungkook’s measured descension to your core. The tip of his member brushed conciliatory kisses to your softest spots as it passed, mitigating what little discomfort there still remained.

And soon, there was none.  

Soon, each, sunken inch of him induced only the most moreish, pleasing of sensations.

Jungkook’s sculpted abdomen, drawn tightly under the burden of moderation, pressed flat to your mound as you enveloped his full length. You writhed, feeling his mass so perfectly planted within you.  “I-It’s been a long while,” your voice was more air than sound, the feeble, soft noise summoning his mouth to provide your own succour.

A few sprawling, desperate seconds later he broke away, though his impression lingered upon your smooch-swollen lips. Despite the visible trembling of his arms, he kept his tone considerately even. “Let me know when, ____.” 

Even now, even lodged so deep that his balls kissed at your crammed core, he put you first.

“Now, Jungkook. Now,” you urged, trapping him in a vice of thighs. “F-Fuck me, I’m ready.”

And he did.

Instinct overruled cognition with a hasty, acute snap of his hips. From the very outset he set a hurried, frenzied pace that saw him transform from the attentive man you so treasured, to a rapt beast heeding the call of a pleasure that could only be found at your centre. A centre he plunged with abandon, tapping you for a completion he was racing startlingly fast towards. “A-ah, noona, I—fuck, you’re perfect, you feel so good,” he gushed unfiltered, your clenching pussy torturing him into the most candid of outpourings. His fingertips dug with such resolve into your ass, it felt like he could tear away flesh.

“B-Baby,” you began, but a raucous groan burst forth from him at your weaponization of the term, striking him at his most vulnerable.

He was gone.

Immersed, so deeply, both in your cunt and the effort he was expending to pound himself into its limits, your provocation only served to accelerate his harried thrusting to a dizzying tempo. The furious pacing was nothing but sweet, sweet violence; your plastered, swelling pussy and endless caterwauling was an attestation to that. Each thunderous clap of your flesh battered your clit to inflammation; a willing casualty of the pummelling he was subjecting you to. “You’re fucking me so good, d-don’t stop, oh!—”

With an ear-sundering squeak, he slid you from the breakfast bar and onto the burly shelf of his stiffened forearm, the other more tenderly employed to cradle your waist. In his strong, resolute hold, he suspended you from the floor, legs dangling, as he continued fuck up into you with admirable determination. And though you were quick to ease his burden somewhat by encircling him with your legs, he then began to stagger away from your previous perch. His intended path was unclear, more-so as you ricocheted from countertop to countertop, entwined and blind in a kiss so sloppy you almost missed mouths, drawing the vicinity of your lips into a maelstrom of tongue and saliva.

With the grating crash of unseated pots and pans, Jungkook drove you to the wall, plastering you onto the decor with the momentum of his pussy-rending pistoning. How he was able to maintain such a potent, jarring rhythm despite the strain of your added weight was an absolute mystery, and one you were only sad you were unable to witness in the rippled strain of his muscular thighs.  

“O-Oh God, I don’t think I can last much longer,” he whined, the centre of his face crinkling into agony. “I’m already so close, I’m s-sorry—you’re just so—so fucking—ungh!”

An orgasm would’ve been lovely— okay, that was an understatement— but unanticipated. First encounters were often desperate, grasping tussles that lacked the longevity and attention you required to get you there. And yet, this was the first time it hadn’t bothered you. Ushering Jungkook to nirvana was euphoria enough for this cursory experience. It was a gift you wholeheartedly gave to a man who put you first in all things. And, given time, would master your body enough to pay you back tenfold. With a gentle brush of his cheek, you prompted his unfocused attention. “Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna make up for it later, aren’t you?”

Jungkook loudly moaned his affirmation. “F-fuck, yes. I’m gonna worship your pussy, noona. Just wait,” a series of harsh, broken thrusts was his endorsement. The drag and draw of his rigid cock was so smooth, now, so lubricated by a unified ecstasy, that it truly felt like he belonged. Like he was a part long missing from your malfunctioning machinery, well-oiled and barrelling into you to fulfil a function you’d never quite known.

And now you knew.

“Are you gonna dirty my pussy, baby?” you purred the salacious incitement into his ear to feel him flounder. And, boy, did he. The targeted battering he’d been unleashing on you stuttered to an erratic, madcap blindfiring that struck you in places that you would be sure to tell him to focus on later. A jagged rasp of a moan bruised your vocal chords. “J-Jungkook, f-fuck, fill me! I wish I could feel you fill me, want my pussy full of your cum—”

“Agh!” he spat the strangled response from behind a clenched jaw, your body drooping in increments as his knees quaked from the stress. With a surge of decisive strength, he hauled you up and flopped you onto the dining table directly behind, the surface lower in height than where your entanglement first began and allowing him the unhindered scope of your nude vista. Forfeit of decency for being so deep within you, his eyes dwindled on the hypnotic spring of your breasts, fuelling a passion that raged toward combustion. “I-I’m gonna come, noona, I’m so close—God, how are you so fucking gorgeous—”

With one, final, fatal squeeze of your vagina, you bought him a one-way ticket to his end. A last gasp of breath and the indistinct blurring of his hips saw Jungkook through a climax that thrashed him with such intensity that he no longer appeared conscious of the grip he had of your waist. It tightened as painfully as the vicelike restriction that tormented his cock, and his thumbs delved so far into the supple flesh of your tummy it felt like he was palpating you for medical examination.

“F-Fuck, yeah, oh, noona, yes—” he shouted with such vehemence you became conscious of the existence of his neighbours. That thought was fleeting, however, in the literal face of Jungkook, stubbornly grinding every drop of himself into the true recipient you both begrudgingly permitted to participate. And though the condom, surely, dulled his – and your, because you couldn’t think of anything more soul-rendingly erotic than him emptying the scorching contents of his balls into you – enjoyment somewhat, you were an awed spectator to the seraphic beauty of his bliss. Features free of anything but a meditative placidity, Jungkook, with every whoosh of expelled breath, looked a traverser of Elysium’s peaks.

“Wow,” you chuckled, rosy-cheeked and more serene than you could ever remember feeling. “You still in there?”

Jungkook’s eyes peeled open, black as night. With him fucked-out and flying, you were better able to access the rawness of him through the dilated pools that stared back at you.

A secret, there, seemed so within reach—

“Only just,” he panted, each word ousted from lungs devoid of breath. “God. I’m just—wow. I lo—I mean, you were amazing.”

You sat up to take his face into your hands – hands that craved him still. “I barely did anything. You rocked my world and I came along for the ride,” Jungkook slipped his wilting cock from you, the desolate chasm it left in its wake soliciting a gloomy pout. “I don’t want you to leave. You feel so good inside me.”

He held the softening appendage in his palm, eyeballing the abundance of cum he’d soiled its latex prison with. “Jesus,” he breathed, flashing you an impish grin. “I submit this as evidence that I also feel really, really, fucking good inside you.”

“More, please?” you simpered, prying wide your legs to tempt him into another round. “I’m hungry for your cock, still.”

Jungkook was enthralled by the ruddied, slobbering sight. His sagging dick heaved a determined breath, levitating precariously from his palm. “Fucking hell,” he threw an anguished look towards the bathroom. “I’ll give you as much cock as you want, noona. But I need to take this off, first. Let’s take a shower, and then—well. I promised you something, didn’t I?”

Your eyes may as well have lit up with jackpot signs. “You’re gonna worship my pussy?”

“I’ll do more than that,” he vowed, stalking away to the bathroom with an urgency to his gait. “I’ll get the shower going.”

Watching his chiselled backside leave was a perk in itself. You were definitely going to bite it at least once in your future tumbles together.

In his absence, you evaluated the trail of destruction your frantic fucking had wraught. As his guest - and the lucky recipient of said fucking - you felt compelled to straighten the place to the best of your ability. You spotted your purse first, dusted with flour, and patted off the excess that stubbornly clung to its exterior, inadvertently dislodging your phone from its compartment. Quite against expectations, you caught the sleek object before it could clatter to the floor and ruin your week, and with a relieved sigh and a habitual click, began mindlessly scrolling through a day’s accumulation of unnoteworthy notifications. In the midst of the unexceptional, Yoongi’s name popped out at you.

[15:33] Yoongi I don’t know if you have already, but can you talk to Taehyung, please?

Your stomach bungeed to your feet.

No.

Not now.

Please.

[15:34] Yoongi I can’t get hold of him since he told me the news.

Oh, God. What news?

Had he really disclosed the grisly details of that catastrophic evening to Yoongi?

[15:34] Yoongi You know he broke up with Tara, right?

Oh.

-

Next: 10 || WYLEI Masterlist

[mnemo-ink]

Cherik Fusion List (A...K)

As the list grew too long for tumblr, I had to divide it into two posts. You’ll find the second part here.

For the rare pairs, the post is here.

The Addams Family

House of Xavier-Lehnsherr Family serie by ximeria

The Adjustment Bureau

Photosets (1, 2, 3 and 4) by LunaAzul

Aladdin

Aladdin by swoopswoop (non-powered, ABO verse, you need to log in ao3 to read)

The One Where Erik Pretends to Be a Prince to Woo Charles by groovyphilia

Chibi by thacmis (third one)

Anastasia

Drawings (1 and 2) by avatarthelastfassbender

Photoset by ittakun

Drawing by Takhesis

Anna and the King / The King and I

Drawings by GQD (space AU)

Assassin’s Creed

Drawings by Arisell

Drawings by brilcrist

Manip by captivesea

Drawing by comew (Assassin’s Creed Unity)

Manip, a first photoset and a second photoset by lisas999

Photoset by negative-sex1

Drawings (1, 2, 3 nsfw, 4, 5) by yaya1029

NEW Atlantis : The Lost Empire

Photoset by ittakun

Atonement

The Half Killed by MonstrousRegiment

Drawing by camerata9

Drawings by mohtz

Drawing by rnyfh (aka mohtz)

Attack on Titan

Fanart by kasryalart

Batman

The Masked Man (who has everything) (on anon)

Beauty And The Beast

Something Strange by reeby10

Tale As Old As Time by madneto

Three ficlets (1 , 2 and 3) by Black Betty

A series of drawings ( 1 , 2 and 3) by GQD

Photoset by henry-escanor

Bioshock Infinite

Fanarts by Dwaroxxx

NEW Fanart by suckerpunchprincess

Black Swan

Fanarts (The Kiss, Disintegration, Black Swan and Nobody but me) by kotokto

Buffy

Modern Vampire : A Guide, By Raven Xavier, Vampire Slayer and its sequel by keire_ke

Card Captor Sakura

Catch You, Catch Me by ang3lsh1

Fanart by against-stars

Casablanca

Photoset et prompt by Black-Betty

Cinderella

Cast-Iron Heart by annejumps

So this is love and its sequel So this is what makes life divine by luninosity

So this is love (The Hopeful Serving Boy Remix) by Nostalgic_Kitty

A cute doodle by picklestpickle

Chibi by thacmis (second one)

Drawing and prompt by thacmis (with crossdressing Charles)

Community

The Greendale Dazzlers by winterhill (you need to log in ao3 to read)

Despicable Me

Despicably Yours by Cesare with fanarts by veryorangecat (powered)

Mini-Fill by lucifelfalling

The Devil Wears Prada

NEW The Devil Wears A Coy Smile by youarerageandserenity

The Rules Of Making It In Fashion by auworksforme (non-powered)

Doctor Who

A Christmas Carol by IronPunk

The Good Shepherd by melonbutterfly

NEW Dracula

Photoset by moon-9077

Drive

Photoset by ittakun

Elementary

Elementary by aesc (powered)

Sobriety by ikeracity (powered)

Emma

A ficlet by lachatblanche

Enchanted

Drawing by pallorsomnium

NEW EQUILIBRIUM

Fic by fullmetalcarer

The Fifth Element

Erik Lehnsherr’s Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours by madneto and Pangea

Photoset and prompt by aesc

Drawings by Comew

NEW Fanart by foxkurama

Final Fantasy

Seven Nation Army (Couldn’t hold me back) by ang3lsh1 (Final Fantasy VIII)

Final Fantasy-esque mini-fill (on anon)

Friends

A great gifset by littlesmartart

Frozen

NEW Photoset by drunklittlemouse

Drawings by lyndraws

Fanarts by GQD

Game of Thrones

Ficlet (on anon)

Drawing of Lord Erik by kotokto

Drawing of King Erik by temple-secrets

Gladiator

Fic by Gerec

Good Omens

Photoset by ittakun

NEW Grease

Fanart by jadenvargen

NEW The Great Gasby

Photoset by lyajkapietro

The Guild

The Knights of X by professor

Hamilton

Drawing by lucerni-resistance

Hamlet

Photoset and prompt by chessandmagnets

Harry Potter

A Fight for Love and Glory by dappertime

The Better Men by TurtleTotem

The Din of the Crowd and the Loud Commotion by MissCatherineEarnshaw

NEW Ficlet by ikeracity

Ficlet by patrioticfrisbee

Ficlet by TurtleTotem

Gryffindor and Slytherin by annejumps

Is It The Cause, My Soul ? serie by BetsyByron

Jealousy Is Slytherin Green by averzierlia

Phase 2 May Need To Be Reworked by Square_Pancake and a fanart inspired by it by quietnightingale

Shall Never See a Password as Secure as Poetry by nextraordinaire

A Small Annoyance by alphabetotter

Solatium by typical-trope

Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis by bocje_ce_ustu

Voyage to the New World by Tsubame

What Passes Between Us (Magic) by fallencrest

Drawings of Slytherin!Erik and Ravenclaw!Charles by 3000w

Drawings of Gryffindor!Erik and Slytherin!Charles by a-ard

Drawing of Slytherin!Erik annd Ravenclaw!Charles by amimochi

Moodboard by bxmyaxsthxtic

Photoset by charlesfrxavier

Photoset of Slytherin!Erik and Ravenclaw!Charles by deadalliandra

Drawing of aurors Erik and Charles with plot, them at Hogwarts in the same universe by fanroi

Photoset of a Chamber of Secrets AU  with Tom!Erik by ittakun

Gifs of young Charles and Erik by ittakun

Comic with Slytherin!Erik and Ravenclaw!Charles by Jade Bui

Fanarts (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) by Ju Lee

Drawing of Slytherin!Erik and Hufflepuff!Charles by jumpwings

Drawing of Slytherin!Erik and Ravenclaw!Charles by loobeinthesky

Drawing of Slytherin!Erik and Hufflepuff!Charles, Slytherin!Erik and Ravenclaw!Charles and a comic by lyndraws

Drawings of Slytherin!Erik and Gryffindor!Charles by princemilkshake

Drawing of Gryffindor!Erik and Slytherin or Ravenclaw!Charles by seasyndo

Drawing, second version and another by shadow-drawings

Drawing of Slytherin!Erik and Gryffindor!Charles by wshaker

Hercules

Drawings by thacmis

NEW The Hobbit

Photosets by ittakun

House M.D.

After Hours by alyssakay347

NEW Dr. Lehnsherr Logic (Lehnsherr M.D. remix) by JackyJango

Lehnsherr M.D. by lachatblanche

Hunger Games

Mini-Fill on anon (powered)

A ficlet by ikeracity and kageillusionz (powered)

Into The Fray by miss_aphelion and its prequel The Calm (ABO verse, non-powered)

The Mutant Games by TurtleTotem (powered)

Resistance by Pragnificent (powered)

Inception

Boden’s Mate and its sequels by keydeefalls

Drawing by palalife

Infernal Affairs

Fic by Gerec

James Bond

One Life For Yourself and One For Your Dreams by endingthemes

Secret Agent Man by ximeria

Fanart of Bond!Erik and Q!CHarles by thacmis

Jurassic Park

NEW Life Finds a Way by heyjupiter

Photoset and prompt by tobehunted

Kingsman

Manip by negative-sex1

NEW Fanart by nothernwatertribeart

Drawings by shigtopia

The King’s Speech

Fanart by comew