#hoops to make mike straight

[hnbka]

i just think it's crazy how milkvans make so many excuses for mike like "his parents never expressed love which is why he cant say i love you" and "he actually did fall in love with el when he saw her he just had the middle school mindset of girls are gross" when all you need is one simple explanation 😌😌

[vixenpen]

Our Year Eddie Munson x Black fem reader (pt. 5)

Eddie’s POV

Fucking perfect.

Was all he could think as he watched the jocks swagger into the gym like they were the fucking mage kings of the court or something.

Eddie grimaced, but tried to ignore the douchebags making eyes at whoever they were screwing on the squad currently. He was only concerned with you.

He turned back to see a few of your squad mates giving him dirty looks and the way they were eyeing you wasn’t much better.

Ever the pro, you kept a smile in place as you called out the cheers. He tried to focus on you and smiled. You looked great out there. Your brown skin had barely broken a sweat and your movements weren’t nearly as stiff as the other girls.

Man, just looking at you made everyone else fade away for Eddie. He leaned his elbows back on the bleachers behind him as a goofy grin lit up his face. Eddie Munson was whipped and he didn’t care who knew it.

Matter of fact, he was so caught up in you that he didn’t see the hoop heads looking his way.

“Alright, ladies, that’s it for today. Great job! We’re already looking strong! Let’s keep up the good work next practice. Get home safe everyone.”

With a clap of her hands, the girls and a sprinkle of guys on the team dispersed toward their waiting bags or their boyfriends. A few of them headed for the locker room. Y/n headed straight for Eddie who straightened up who wrapped her in a big hug.

“Great job out there, babe.”

“Thanks, Eddie bear,” you giggled as he kissed your forehead. “Where are the kids?” You asked referring to Mike and Dustin.

“I told them to wait in the car. C’mon we gotta get the kiddos home before their curfews or—“

“Hey, Munson, I knew you were a freak, but I didn’t take you for a creep too.” Andy Manning jeered, he was one of Jason’s loyal minions and was always the second most confrontational of their crew besides Jason.

The trio approached Eddie and y/n followed by the very smug looking core four.

“I could care less about anybody on this squad other than y/n.” Eddie shot back, squeezing his girlfriend tighter against his side. “Let’s get outta here babe.”

The pair tried to side step the gaggle of basketball players and cheerleaders only for Chance to block their path.

“Not so fast, freak, Liz told us you two trashed her car this weekend. Is that true?”

“Oh, did your car get trashed too, Liz?” Y/n asked innocently. “We got soda bombed at the movies this weekend. Seems some asshole is just going around ruining people’s nights. You better watch out.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Chance snapped.

“You heard my girl, ball for brains, somebody trashed our car too that night.” Eddie shot back. “You got the wrong suspects so move.”

He tugged y/n’s arm once more leading her away from the group of jocks and bitchy cheerleaders.

“Y/n when you’re ready to drop the zero, I’ll be here!” One of the guys jeered.

It was enough to stop Eddie in his tracks.

“Eddie, don’t.” His girlfriend tugged his arm. “Please. Fuck them.”

But it was too late and Eddie was already headed back in the laughing jocks direction.

“I know you’ve taken a few hits to the head since being on the team, dick cheese, but if you need a reminder of what happened to your leader,” Eddie nodded toward Jason, “I can jog your memory.”

Jason’s face burned bright red at the reminder of his three time ass kicking.

“Wha’d you say, rat hair?” Chance asked, his chest sticking out as he glared back at Eddie.

“You heard me.” Eddie shot back. “All of you did. I can use any of you dimwits as a reminder.”

Chance advanced on him and Eddie stepped closer while the rest of the squad and team looked on. Eddie’s heart was beating wildly to as the air became charged with adrenaline. Contrary to popular belief, Eddie didn’t go looking for trouble nor did he usually start it. He hated conflict ever since he was a child, and knew when to run vs when to fight. But he wasn’t a punching bag either. He’d gotten enough of that as a kid. It was no secret that he was the tough guy of Hellfire club, but douchebags still liked to try him on occasion.

“Eddie, don’t!” Y/n grabbed his arm.

“Yeah, listen to your girl, Munson.” Chance spat, green eyes narrowing.

“Dude, shut up!” Jason reprimanded.

“Might wanna listen to your leader, asshole.” Eddie smirked. “At least one of you still has your memory.”

Jason’s expression grew from wary to mortified. His face drained of color as if he thought Eddie might blow his tough guy image right then and there about kicking his ass years ago. Luckily Eddie just gave him his usual shit eating smirk.

“C’mon, Eddie,” Y/n whispered pulling her boyfriend away, “let’s go.”

“This isn’t over, Munson!” Chance called behind him.

Eddie held up his middle finger as his girlfriend led him out of the gym.

Could he have handled that better? Maybe, but he was tired of people making his social status y/n’s problem. Even more tired of guys outright disrespecting his relationship with her.

I just wanna date my girl in peace. Is that so much to ask!

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize y/n was talking.

“Eddie?”

He stopped in his tracks as he noticed you had stopped too.

“Are you ok? I know those lames pissed you off.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighed, running a ringed hand through his messy curls. His cheeks puffed as he blew out a frustrated sigh. “I didn’t mean to make problems for you, y/n.”

“You didn’t.” She insisted. “We knew this was a possibility.”

“Still, I should probably stay away from your practices.”

“No you shouldn’t! Other girl’s boyfriends pick them up from practice it shouldn’t be any different for us.”

“Y/n, I am on my last leg for graduation. One wrong move could ruin that for me and if your Coach finds out that your boyfriend is fighting basketball team members I could get you kicked from the squad.” A sad smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Hate to break it to you beautiful, but I’m kind of a common denominator here.”

“I’d rather be off the squad, than hide you.”

Eddie’s heart skipped as he stared down at his girlfriend’s warm dark eyes and sincere expression. She was always in his corner 100%. He just wished he could make it mean something. Lately it always felt like being with him meant y/n had to sacrifice something and he hated that.

Before he could find the words to express that, his girlfriend was on her tip toes kissing him and turning his brain into mush.

With a surprised hum, Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back.

With every undulation of her tongue in his mouth and every second in her arms his insecurities melted away.

Dammit. I love this chick. I love you, y/n. I can’t let this go…

For a long time there was nothing but white noise and y/n in his brain until:

“See, I told you he was probably hooking up.” A familiar smart alecy voice quipped.

“That still doesn’t mean I owe you five dollars.”

The couple turned to see Dustin and Mike standing at the end of the hall.

“Hey,” Eddie barked, his face heating up in embarrassment and his beat up leather jacket not helping the matter. “I thought I told you little munchkins to wait in the van!”

“Dude, you were taking five ever to come out!” Dustin shot back. He and Mike were wearing AV club shirts and matching windbreakers.

“Yeah, Eddie, not to rush you, but we do kinda have curfews.” Mike added.

“Ughh, fine Eddie rolled his eyes as y/n giggled. “C’mon ya little shits. Let’s get you two home before your mommies call the cops or whatever.”

“Thank you.” Dustin shot back.

The  older teens fell into step with the underclassmen as Dustin continued to talk.

“Hey, Eddie, tell Mike a deal’s a deal.”

“I didn’t make a deal with you, dude, you assumed we were betting and I just didn’t say anything.”

“Failure to deny a bet is an automatic loss, dude.” Eddie chuckled as he slung an arm around his girlfriend.

“What?! Since when? You guys are just dicking with me.”

“You either take the bet or deny it, Mike. That’s just how it is.” Y/n got in on the fun.

“I am not giving Dustin another five bucks!”

As they joked on their way to the car, Eddie finally felt himself relax for the first time since the run-in. He held the van door open grinning from ear to ear as y/n climbed in still joking with the kids and her brown skin glistening from the slight sheen of sweat. She was perfect, she was his, and no hoop head or cheerleader status was going to change that.

[balllightningcomics]

Island of the Slaughtered: The Castaways Except: Meet The Castaways

Summary: One day in the year 2007, twenty-two teenagers from different backgrounds had gone to participate in what was supposed to be a reality show called Total Drama Island hosted by Chris McLean…only 7 came back. 12 years later this Island of the slaughtered has become something of an urban legend thought to be little more than a ghost story…until group of teens coming home from a summer cruise find themselves shipwrecked and stranded on the remains of camp wawanakwa and in the hands of the spirts that live in it, but  is it the ghosts that are the threat or something else lurking on that island? If the teens all hope to make it out alive, not only will they all need to work together…they’ll need to make some friends. 

Note: This is an excerpt of the prologue. 

This is a sort of fanmade sequel to @eavee-ry’s Island of the Slaughtered. If you haven't read it, first of all ... .how did you even find this fic? Second of all, read it and support her, seriously. Her work is amazing. 

e a v e on Tumblr

“It is only during a storm that a tree knows how strong it is.” – Matshona Dhliwayo

Michael sat quietly in the corner of the cruise ship as he read the good book. He tried his best to ignore the hooping and hollering of the partying going on around him by his fellow classmates. He hated parties, honestly he hated the hustle and bustle, the noise, not to mention some of the uncomfortable subject matter that was brought up especially when underage drinking was involved. 

So why was he here? That answer was as simple as it was sad. He may not have liked parties or cruises or summer trips, but they helped him escape his home life. Anything was better than being at home. 

“Hey mike! Why don’t you come out and jon the rest of us?”

Michael looked up to see Alex waving him over. Alex was a linebacker of the highschool football team. He was nice but he was a bit of a party hound. Honestly all his friends seemed to fit into a type

You had Clint, He was your stereotypical geek. Video games were his forte but he also had a thing for boardgames, movies, novels. If there was a subject matter he probably had some knowledge about it. 

There was becky. she was a cheerleader and Alex’s girlfriend but aside from cheerleading she was also loved to cook. And she loved to run. 

Dan and sam were something straight out of a horror movie, Aside from the fact that they both looked like Vampires they had a strange habit of finishing each other’s sentences. It was like they were a unimind of sorts. As much as Michael was viewed as the creepy kid, he viewed the vampire twins as the real unnerving people. 

Jessica was the army brat of Alex’s little group. Tall and broad, she was probably the most athletic of the group next to Alex, and on top of all that she had skills both in firearms and bushcraft so if there was ever a citation where you need to survive the wilderness, Jess was the girl you wanted. 

Last but not least was Hiroshi He claimed to be a descendant of a samurai and frankly both Mike and Alex believed it. The guy often carried a Katana with him outside of school and he DID know how to use it. It. Mike never talked to him often, but he always did find Japanese culture to be fascinating, even if a lot of it was romanticized…

Island of the Slaughtered: The Castaways

[runninguplenorahills]

post more Yes! also from experience with my notes it's always a bit interesting to see people adamant about "the simplest/in hindsight most obvious thing is usually what the writers are going for" which, yeah. until it comes to sexuality debates where arguing for bi Mike needs So much hoop jumping. like how "boys only" comments are only meant to be taken literally when Will is making them or long explanations about how "it's not my fault..." wouldn't just end up being left as homophobia no matter how Mike really meant it. when "he was projecting" is Right There. simplest answer

Or how the family parallels are all of a sudden a hint that “Mike and El will not last but they were definitely in love once”, when “Mike never had romantic feelings for El” is right there lmao.

But bad takes from aspiring gymnasts aside, there are so many things that aren’t directly connected to what’s happening in the show which the people in the different camps (bi Mike/gay Mike) do that are just telling of what’s really Mike’s canon sexuality.

(Quick side note: i don’t mean that every single person in each camp has contributed to this but there are some things that have only happened in the bi Mike camp and things that have only happened in the gay Mike camp which I have picked up on over the past year. So again if you (general) specifically have not done any of these things that’s true and I’m not arguing against that but what I’m taking about exclusively happens/happened in your (general) camp).

For example what I said in my Doofenshmirtz post. I don’t know if there’s been more instances but I for once have seen two blogs that are openly bi Mike truthers post alternative arcs for Mike that do not include him being queer, trying to convince people that Mike wouldn’t be a jerk if he’s straight.

And why is this telling? Well, the bi Mike interpretation leaves unanswered questions. It does not explain everything we’ve seen of Mike in the show so there’s a whole lot of room for doubt. But instead of opening up their minds to Mike being gay instead of bi they think that if he’s not bi he’s gotta be straight (because for some reason people obsessively cling to the idea that Mike is attracted to girls). So they’re making up a super vague arc that somehow would explain Mike’s actions if he’s straight and tell people that Mike wouldn’t be a jerk if he was actually straight because they’ve become attached to Mike but can’t explain all of his behavior with the bi interpretation so they’re trying to make people still love him even if he was straight (even though Mike’s character would just objectively suck and be badly written if he was). And that just shows us how fucking fragile the bi Mike interpretation is.

Not once have I come across a gay Mike truthers who’s so insecure about the gay Mike interpretation that they’ve resorted to trying to explain how Mike’s character would still make sense if he was straight lmao.

Another example is the infamous question: “are all interpretations equally valid?” to which most gay Mike truthers answer with “no” while most bi Mike truthers answer with “yes”.

Gay Mike truthers analyze the show with the goal of finding out what the writers’ intention is. We’re analyzing the source material and our conclusion is that the writers’ intention is gay Mike which only logically means that not every interpretation can be equally valid as the writers’ intention cannot be both gay and bi Mike etc. The show cannot portray both, it portrays one or the other. Thus the gay Mike interpretation is more valid than the bi Mike interpretation because gay Mike aligns with the writers intention. It aligns with what the show is actually portraying. Which all makes sense given our standpoint,

So what does this tell us about bi Mike truthers saying that every interpretation is equally valid? Well, either it shows us that they’re insecure in their believe that bi Mike is actually the writer’s intention, or it shows us that they’re analyzing the show with a different goal entirely. That being just interpreting it for themselves which is also supported by the common argument that every interpretation must be equally valid since “everyone interprets things differently”.

And that’s outside evidence for the gay Mike interpretation being more valid for canon than the bi Mike interpretation if I ever saw one.

One thing that counts into this too is the fact that bi Mike truthers often preach that “every headcanon is valid” while simultaneously not listening to us when we tell them that gay Mike is not a headcanon! Which is actually just hilarious because they’re just confirming that they themselves see the bi Mike interpretation as a headcanon, while the gay Mike truthers separate these things because a headcanon is something that can be made without any regard to canon but gay Mike is the conclusion we got from exclusively analyzing the canon source material! Which makes it not a headcanon.

And my favorite difference between the camps truly is that saying “Mike is not gay” will get you notes from gay Mike truthers telling you that you lack media literacy, while saying “Mike is not bi” will get you notes from bi Mike truthers telling you that you’re biphobic.

And all of that is just kinda shows that Mike’s canonically gay which I got from simply observing the people from the different camps lmao.

[90363462]

FEATURES

THE 10 MOMENTS WHEN POP CULTURE GOT HIP-HOP WRONG

By Stereo Williams

Published Mon, June 29, 2020 at 10:50 AM EDT

After Hip-Hop’s mid-’80s mainstream breakthrough, the tropes and aesthetics of rap music were suddenly thrust into the commercial spotlight. Of course, that would eventually bring Hip-Hop to the forefront as the dominant cultural influencer for the generations who came of age as it took flight.

But in the ’80s and much of the ’90s, the mainstream public’s lens for Hip-Hop was limited. Even as Hip-Hop stars of the late ’80s gained high-profile critical acclaim with artists like Public Enemy and N.W.A. fostering the genre’s rebel image while acts like De La Soul were hailed for quirky eclecticism, many mainstream entities still seemed to engage with rap music as a novelty or an oddity.

Here are 10 of the most unforgettable (we tried, we really tried) moments when Hip-Hop crossovers made for woeful results.

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RAPPIN’ CARTOON CHARACTERS

For a generation of ’80s kids, cartoons like The Transformers and G.I. Joe were mainstays of their weekday afternoons. These merchandised toy fests of pop culture played a major role in signifying Hip-Hop’s growing trendiness. Popular Black characters on many popular action cartoons of the day were saddled with stereotypical tropes (there was even a G.I. Joe character who wore a basketball jersey and only spoke in hoop speak), and the rapping hero soon became an ’80s cartoon cliché.

The Transformers had Blaster, a communications export for the good-guy Autobots — a boom box who often spoke in rhyme: “Give us some answers and make it snappy, ’cause my buddy here’s trigger-happy.” Roadblock of G.I. Joe was the most prominently featured African-American character, and he also spoke in rhyme: “Play it straight or there’s no doubt, I’ll turn your eyeballs inside out.” He became one of the franchise’s most popular characters, famously portrayed by Dwayne Johnson in the 2013 movie G.I. Joe: Retaliation.

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RAPPIN’ RODNEY

Goofy singles would pepper the pop charts of the ’80s and ’90s and — were it not for its rapid expansion and diversification, often independent of the biggest commercial stages — could easily have pigeonholed the genre by the “Disco-Duck”-ing of its popular image. The mid-’80s, in particular saw jokey tracks like comedian Rodney Dangerfield’s legendary “Rappin’ Rodney,” the Chicago Bears’ terrifying-but-endearing “Super Bowl Shuffle,” and the John Wayne-themed “Rappin’ Duke.”

Imagine if you’d never heard of Grandmaster Flash but this kind of thing was your initial exposure to rapping and Hip-Hop? And it wasn’t just one-off joke records churning out novelty hits. The Fat Boys had some of Larry Smith’s best production values and very real charisma, but were soon devoured (bad pun, right?) by an image predicated on cartoonish silliness of gimmicky songs like “All You Can Eat” and oldies covers like “Wipe Out” and “The Twist.”

Part of the reason some people underappreciate DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince’s legacy as a DJ-MC duo is because of novelty singles like “I Think I Can Beat Mike Tyson” and “Nightmare on My Street.”

But there was a string of movie-themed duds like the Fat Boys’ “Are You Ready for Freddy” from A Nightmare on Elm Street 6, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song “Turtle Power” by the annoyingly named Partners in Kryme, and Vanilla Ice’s infamous “Ninja Rap” from the Turtles’ sequel.

Far more successful smashes like MC Hammer’s “Addams’ Groove” from The Addams Family and Will Smith’s “Men in Black” kept novelty rap on the charts well into the ’90s, but as Hip-Hop became more centered in popular culture, more people recognized these kinds of songs for what they were: fun, slick, junk food.

These songs aren’t anything close to definitive now, but for many, these types of songs were their first window into Hip-Hop.

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RAPPIN’ ROCKIN’ BARBIE

Madison Avenue embraced Hip-Hop’s selling power in the ’80s and ’90s by producing rap-centric products. That still goes on today, but some early attempts at rap cross-marketing were downright strange.

In a 1992 commercial, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble became a rap duo in an effort to sell Fruity Pebbles cereal. Rappin’ Rockin’ Barbie didn’t turn out to be the toy craze of 1992, but the commercial from that year highlights the way Madison Avenue tried to connect with Hip-Hop for the sake of commerce with dance moves and a goofy boom box that “Plays a real rap sound!”

And who could forget the 1993 video game commercial for The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening? Taking a decidedly hard-core slant on a decidedly non-gangsta game was an interesting choice, with production that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on a Das EFX record from around that time.

“THE PRINCESS & THE HOMEBOY”

You can’t parody what you don’t know.

That’s a truth of comedy. There’s a fine line between landing a funny punch and whiffing at it because you’re swinging at something from the outside. You have to really get it well enough to poke at it, and SNL’s attempts to mock Hip-Hop were typically awkward and unfunny pre-Y2K.

Take SNL’s 1996 sketch “The Princess and the Homeboy,” which featured Tim Meadows as a foul-mouthed houseguest of Mark McKinney and host Teri Hatcher. It opens with the warning:

“Get ready America, because next Monday there’s a surprise in store for the Fresh Prince and for LL COOL J. You see, a new brother is moving to the hood, and he’s as legit as they come!”

The skit centers around a sitcom featuring a rapper named G-Dog, who comes to the live with a white-bread couple. McKinney’s character explains: “When G-Dog’s father passed away I promised him that G-Dog could live with us.” G-Dog proceeds to yell offensive things at the couple like, “I’ll thank you to shut the fuck up, and go make me a muthafuckin sandwich!” Because, y’know, that’s rappers!

The G-Dog character seems like the kind of rapper created by folks who didn’t know hip-hop well enough to effectively mock it. Meadows plays him like a randomly cursing Freedom Williams of C+C Music Factory. Going from Compton to the country club, indeed. SNL’s contemporary Hip-Hop shots are far more on-target and funnier. 

As the raunchy Hip-Hop soul of acts like Jodeci took over as the sound of ’90s R&B, SNL decided to spoof the lick-you-up-and-down vibes of acts of the era. Given that Chris Rock is involved, you would think the 1993 parody “Suck Your Big Toe” — a send-up of Hip-Hop- drenched R&B acts like Jodeci, Silk, and H-Town — would hit harder or be funnier.

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TOM HANKS AND DAN AYKROYD “CITY OF CRIME”

As Hip-Hop hit the charts in the mid-’80s, it also hit the big screen and not just in rapsploitation classics like Breakin’ and Beat Street. It popped up in weird and expectedly awkward scenes in other movie genres. There’s the earnest-but-lame freestyling scene from Say Anything… , which scores points for authenticity. Nothing’s more real than four white high-school guys rapping in a convenience-store parking lot.

But there were even more egregious offenders. Sticking a goofy rap into a popular comedy or kitsch flick became a bit of a go-to formula. We would all be happier to erase from existence Dan Aykroyd and Tom Hanks’ atrocious “City of Crime” rap from Dragnet. We all love Hanks, but somebody should be made to answer for this one.

And the less said about the better about the 1986 video “The Karate Rap,” which appeared in the 1994 forgotten martial arts film Sister Sensei. And we may never forget the “Lambda Lambda Rap” from the finale of Revenge of the Nerds.

While the next entry could fit neatly into this category, it’s so notorious it deserves special recognition.

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“TOP THAT!” FROM TEEN WITCH

So bad, it merited its own standalone spot.

It’s hard to describe Teen Witch, the 1989 fantasy-comedy white-rap musical. There’s so much bad suburban white-kid rap in this movie it’s kind of amazing. Highlights include a crew of bros rhyming their come-ons from their jeep to star Robin Lively and an infamous rap-dance scene performed by Noah Blake as the character of Rhet.

Many of the principals involved with Teen Witch explained on People TV in 2018 how that scene came to be.

“They wanted to redo the opening of the movie, and they really wanted to come up with a big rap song in the middle of the movie as a feature,” shared Teen Witch score composer Larry Weir. “So the new producers I met with said ‘Do you write rap?’ and I said ‘Yeah, I’ll write a rap.’ So I went home and worked on a rap.”

After Weir debuted the song to a raucous reception from the producers, they reshot the movie to include the scene. So they spent more money to make sure this made it into the movie.

“We had wrapped Teen Witch and all was well,” explained actress Mandy Ingber, whose character Polly is clearly impressed by Rhet’s funky dancing and rhymes. “I felt like it was a few months later, I got a call and they wanted to add some new scenes to the movie.”

Actor Blake knew immediately how cringe-worthy it all was going to be.

“I do remember walking out of the dressing room onto the set and thinking ‘Wow, this is really pushing the envelope of whatever this is supposed to be,’ ” he explained in ’18. “There was not any moment in time that I ever thought what I was doing was cool. There was no moment that I was ever not in peril that this was would be just totally humiliating.”

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KARL LAGERFELD’S 1991 FASHION SHOW

In 1991, legendary fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld debuted his latest creations for Chanel, and it became evident that the Fall 1991 Chanel fashions were heavily inspired by the Hip-Hop trends of the early ’90s.

“I think what Lagerfeld has always done amazingly well is completely capture the mood of the moment,” explained style.com editor-at-large Tim Blanks. “He listens to everything, reads everything, sees everything, and then distills it into these incredibly potent fashion images. In this collection, you get a sense that he was probably listening to rap music.”

Lagerfeld gave rappers props during the show. “The rappers are more clever, and you cannot fool them. The make-believe and all this doesn’t work anymore. You can’t cheat nobody anymore. I think it’s a good thing.”

Baseball caps worn backwards, long chains, baggy pants — they were all there. It was definitely high fashion. Was it Hip-Hop? Not sure. The looks are undeniable, but it’s hard not to wonder how much Hip-Hop fashion he’d actually absorbed up until then. Lagerfeld proved to foreshadow what would become an industry unto itself — couture fashion’s flirtation with Hip-Hop. Some people might side-eye.

But hey, at least they’re not bad looks.

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MARRIED WITH CHILDREN: BEST OF GRANDMASTER B

In the early ’90s, teen stars on Fox started pining for Hip-Hop cred. Could it have been because Fox was the most Hip-Hop-friendly of the networks at the time? It was home to Martin and In Living Color, but two of the network’s biggest stars began flaunting their supposed Hip-Hop cred as their shows became ratings smashes.

One was Beverly Hills, 90210 star Brian Austin Green. His character, David Silver, was written to match his own interest in rapping and DJing, and both became heavily referenced aspects of the character throughout the show’s run. After several false starts, he actually dropped an album — 1996’s One Stop Carnival — produced by SlimKid3 of Pharcyde. There’s also a video for his quasi alt-rappy single “You Send Me.”

But if you somehow missed David Silver’s wannabe-Hieroglyphics rhyme career in the ’90s, you may recall Married With Children’s David Faustino’s foray into the rap game. Playing the popular character Bud Bundy on the hit sitcom, Faustino used his fame to bolster Hip-Hop among the LA elites, opening one of the first rap clubs on the Sunset Strip in the early ’90s. On the show, the writers took note of Faustino’s rap interests and wrote them into his character. Thus, Grandmaster B was born.

Grandmaster B was nerdy Bud Bundy’s rapper alter ego. Both a parody and a full-on representative of the kinda goofs who’d made Vanilla Ice a star, Grandmaster B makes you wonder how many people actually got the joke.

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VANILLA ICE WINS BEST NEW ARTIST

Hip-Hop has an awkward history with music awards shows. Kanye West spent the majority of the ’00s ranting about it. Diddy decided to call it out in ’20. But the Grammy Awards and American Music Awards have always had a weird relationship with Hip-Hop, and it’s not limited to the infamous ’89 ceremony and MTV’s Hip-Hop boycott of that show.

You can’t expect an institution like the Grammys to dig deep for the most underground classic rap shit, but those popular awards shows had a specific lens — especially in the ’80s and ’90s — that was almost exclusively squared on whatever big crossover rap hit made waves, even if that hit was by Candyman.

You have Vanilla Ice winning Best Rap New Artist at the 1991 American Music Awards, which led to him being booed at the Soul Train Awards a few weeks later. Grammy-winning rappers of the ’80s and ’90s include Young MC, MC Hammer, Sir Mix-A-Lot, Coolio, and Will Smith (three times). To be fair, artists like LL COOL J, Salt-N-Pepa, Dr. Dre, and Queen Latifah all took home gold gramophone awards, but the Grammy organization, which promotes the show as “Music’s Biggest Night,” seemed to have a narrow idea of mainstream Hip-Hop in any given year. When you consider the historical context, the Grammys’ contemporary criticism has long, deep roots.

Today, more Hip-Hop fans tune in to the Grammys than ever before, so the criticism is louder than it was decades ago. Is change imminent? Hope so.

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JAY-Z ON OPRAH

One of the common misconceptions about Hip-Hop — specifically the art of rapping — in the earlier years of its crossover was that anyone can rap. The pervasive thinking among the older generation was that rapping was just talking over a beat, and as such, you got many lame and condescending “So show me how to rap” incidents across pop culture. Sheila E.’s terrible rhyme from Krush Groove was cute in the film’s context but also showed how musicians can sometimes dismiss the art.

And there was the JAY-Z appearance on the famously anti-Hip-Hop Oprah Winfrey’s talk show back in 2009 showing the icon how to rap. 

It also didn’t help that as other genres embraced Hip-Hop, they also embraced the idea of rapping on their own songs. We got years of bad raps from many performers, like the Pet Shop Boys and En Vogue, until someone got the brilliant (we’re not exaggerating here) idea to include actual rappers on such songs. Because as cool as anyone may think it is, not everyone can rap.

Artists like Jody Watley, LeVert, Janet Jackson, and even Sinéad O’Connor and R.E.M. reached out to actual rappers like Rakim, Heavy D, MC Lyte, and KRS-One to guest on their tracks before Mariah Carey’s ’95 hit “Fantasy” featuring Ol’ Dirty Bastard turned the approach into a winning formula for pop success. From that point on, big hits meant featuring big rappers. But the beginning was dark. No one ever has to hear Donnie Wahlberg’s rap from New Kids on the Block’s single “Games” ever again.

* Banner Image: CREDIT: Vanilla Ice / Photo by Michel Linssen/Redferns

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[little-moonbeam-666]

Angels And Dungeon Masters

Another loud yell came from the basement, echoing all the way upstairs to where you resided in Nancy’s room, perched on her bed. The two of you were flipping through Cosmo magazines and giggling over an article titled “The Myth Of The Unemotional Man: Classic Cases Of Defrosting”... at least you were until your younger cousin's party of heathens disrupted your thoughts.

“Oh my god, Nancy, are they always this loud? It’s literally one in the morning.” you complained, cutting your eyes at her. She just chuckled and gave you a smile.

“Unfortunately, yes. They’re in the middle of yet another D&D campaign run by their Hellfire club leader. And these campaigns last for weeks… months even. This one will probably last all summer. So good luck trying to get them to settle down.” she said, watching you get up and march towards her door with the intent of telling them to quiet down.

“Mike may not listen to me, but Dustin, Lucas, and Will love me so maybe I’ll have some luck.” You said, giving her a grin before making your way down stairs, smoothing out the pastel blue silk of the knee length, lace trimmed nightgown you were wearing.

You made your way through the living room and the kitchen before stopping at the basement door, hearing them all hooping and hollering over their game. You took a deep breath before opening the door, not caring if it made any noise. They were being so loud they wouldn’t be able to hear it anyways.

“Mike!” you yelled, before making your way down the stairs and planting your hands firmly on your hips as you reached the bottom. “Do you realize what time it is Michael?!”

“Sorry, Y/N! We didn’t realize the time! We will try to keep our volume to a minimum.” Dustin spoke, giving you a wide grin and making Mike roll his eyes.

“That’s all I ask.” you said sweetly, smiling back.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” came an unknown voice, making you scan the room once more before landing on someone you’d never met before.

“Oh, that’s my cousin, Y/N. She’s staying here for the summer so you’ll probably see a lot of her.” Mike explained before looking back at you. “Y/N, this is Eddie.”

You watched as he stood up making his way over to you and doing a very dramatic low bow, holding out his hand. You nervously scanned your cousin and his friends and they just shrugged their shoulders. You put your hand in his, instantly noticing just how small your hand was compared to his and how cold his rings were against your skin. He grabbed your hand and stood up straight, gracing you with a smile.

“Did you fall through a portal from Mount Celestia, because you look like an angel.” he said, his brown eyes staring straight into yours. You could feel a slight blush rise up your neck to your cheeks as he spoke. In that moment you realized just how underdressed you were, wishing you had at least put on your robe before you marched downstairs. You glanced nervously at your cousin to see him pretending to gag and his friends staring wide eyed. If you were being honest, Eddie was cute…. Really cute. He practically SCREAMED your type. So you didn’t see the harm in flirting back… and grossing out your younger cousin a bit more. You quickly regained your composure, pushing any hints of embarrassment away and smiled at the man who was holding your hand captive.

“Unfortunately, no. But you can be my dungeon master any time you like, handsome.” You said, batting your eyelashes a bit and pushing your breasts together just slightly with your arms.

His eyes practically sparkled as he gave you a wicked grin, laced with an unspoken promise to see you again… or possibly take you up on that offer. You didn’t miss his eyes darting from your face to your chest either. You got exactly what you wanted.

“Ew, gross! No flirting with my friends, Y/N!”

“Not even sorry about it, Mike.” you laughed, gently slipping your hand from Eddies. “Goodnight, boys. Keep it down, will ya?” 

“Anything for you, angel.” Eddie said, smirking at you as you made your way back upstairs.

“Thank you, Eddie.” you practically purred, giggling as you hit the top of the steps.

When you made it back upstairs to Nancy’s room, you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. And Nancy immediately noticed.

“Ok… what happened down there that’s got you so happy?” she giggled, nudging your shoulder with her own as you sat down next to her.

“You didn’t tell me that Mike had a super cute older friend here.” you said, nervously picking at your fingernails and avoiding eye contact.

“So you met Eddie? Of course you’d think he’s cute. He’s totally your type!” she said happily.

“Oh, I met Eddie alright. He totally flirted with me. He threw a D&D pickup line at me… although I don’t think he was prepared for me to throw one back.”

“You used a dungeons and dragons pick up line on him?! Oh, I bet he’s absolutely swooning right about now with hearts in his eyes!” she giggled. “Spill! I want details!”

“He asked me if I fell through a portal from Mount Celestia because I look like an angel.” you giggled, rolling your eyes dramatically. “And I told him no, but he was more than welcome to be my dungeon master whenever he wants.”

“Oh my god, Y/N! I bet he’s positively reeling right now, thinking up ways to ask you out.”

“You think he’ll ask me out?” you asked, almost too excitedly.

“Definitely.” she giggled.

The rest of the night was a blur, even as you returned to your own room. Every once in a while as you laid beneath the covers, you could hear a faint cheer or yell from downstairs. You could distinctly tell Eddie’s voice from the others. You couldn’t help but smile thinking about the cute punk rock guy with the fluffy hair and big, brown doe eyes that was sitting downstairs playing Dungeons and Dragons with your cousin.

The next morning had you flitting around your bedroom, questioning which shoes to wear with the short black dress. You had tried on at least four different pairs and checked them out in the mirror, but remained undecided. You were almost in full blown panic mode when Nancy walked in, chuckling to herself when she saw you sitting on the floor with shoes surrounding you.

“Nancy, help.” you whined pitifully, sticking out your lower lip in a pout.

“Stand up.” she said. You did as she said and looked over your outfit for a moment before grabbing a pair of black combat boots. “These. Put these on, he’ll like them. You are trying to get Eddie’s attention, right?”

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, putting on a simple silver chain necklace and a few beaded bracelets, followed by a denim vest covered in band pins and patches. You finished with the boots and fluffed your already teased hair in the mirror, checking your makeup one last time.

“Oh, it’s very obvious. I’m sure Eddie’s bouncing in his seat, just waiting to see you come down the stairs like the angel you are.” she teased. Your eyes went wide as you stared at your cousin.

“He’s still here?! He didn’t go home last night?”

“Oh, no. He usually leaves after breakfast and comes back right before dinner.” she stated matter-of-factly. 

“Ok… um… do I look ok?” you asked nervously, smoothing out the short skirt of your dress.

“Y/N, I give Eddie all of ten seconds before he starts flirting with you. Now come on, I’m hungry and mom made waffles.”

You couldn’t contain your smile as you entered the dining room, seeing Eddie sat at the table with Mike, Dustin, Will, and Lucas. Eddie was practically beaming as his eyes landed on you. And of course Nancy was right. Not even in the room for ten seconds before Eddie started flirting.

“Good morning, angel.” he purred, giving you a grin.

Your stomach flipped at his words, making you smile as you grabbed yourself a plate and sat down in the empty seat next to Eddie. You could see Nancy smirking at you with the biggest ‘I told you so’ look on her face out of the corner of your eye.

“Good morning, dungeon master.” you purred, barely loud enough for him to hear. You glanced at him only to see him holding back a smile and biting his lip.

“Ew.” Mike said, pretending to gag.

“Shut up, Michael.” you said, making Eddie laugh.

You spent the rest of breakfast listening to Mike and Dustin talking about their game and Nancy telling you how she was going to hang out with Steve and Robin today. But your mind couldn’t focus due to the slight nudging of Eddie's knee against yours, as if to get your attention. Slowly looking over at him you raised your eyebrows in question.

“Can I talk to you… somewhere else?” he whispered. You nodded your head, going back to pretending to listen to Nancy for a moment before getting up and putting your empty plate in the sink.

“Eddie, you comin’?” you asked, quickly making your way out of the dining room. Eddie was quick to follow, following you to the living room where things were a bit more private. You sat down on the couch and motioned for him to sit next to you. He did, his knee bouncing nervously as silence filled the air.

“So… uh… did- did you sleep ok last night?” he asked. You giggled, realizing he was just as nervous as you were.

“No, actually, I didn’t. My brain was a little too preoccupied with… thoughts.” you trailed off, not wanting to reveal that you had been thinking about him.

“I’m sorry, angel. Were we too loud still?” He said, concern lacing his voice.

“Oh, no! If you were too loud I would’ve just come back down and told you all to shut up. Just couldn’t shut my brain off for some reason.” you said, giving him a smile. “So what are you gonna do today? Sleep I presume?”

“Probably just go home, play a bit, sleep a bit, then come back later.” he said.

“Play?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him and making him chuckle.

“Yeah, I play guitar.” he said, fiddling with one of the heavy rings on his fingers. Your eyes darted to his hands… his fingers. The thoughts that instantly flooded your brain were downright filthy. And then the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Would you play for me?”

Your words seemed to have shocked him as he looked at you with his big brown eyes, staring at you in disbelief. You gave him a shy smile as you tried to hide the blush that was creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

“Yeah… yeah, sure. I can totally play for you. Would you, uh, would you wanna come chill at my place? Yeah, I can play for you and we could, like, watch a slasher film or something. Or we could take a nap since neither of us really slept last night. But it’s totally up to you, angel. Whatever you want to do.” he said frantically, stumbling over his words. It was honestly the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

“I’d like that… a lot. So I guess I can just leave with you and we’ll come back later.”

“That works…. That definitely works.” he said, nodding his head in agreement.

“Let me just go tell Aunt Karen that I’m leaving and then we can head out.” you said, getting up from the couch and going back to the dining room.

“Hey Aunt Karen, I’m heading out. But I’ll be back later.” you said, eager to go spend time with your newfound crush.

“Ok, sweetie. Where are you going, if you don’t mind me asking?” she said, looking up at you.

“Oh, I’m just gonna go hang out with Eddie.” you said, motioning to where Eddie now stood leaning against the doorframe. “He said he plays guitar… he’s gonna show me. And maybe watch a movie or two. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“Have fun, Y/N. Dinner’s at six.” she said, going back to eating her breakfast. Before you could leave, Mike just had to have his say in the matter.

“You just wanna be alone with Eddie so you can flirt and make out with him.” he said, making Dustin, Will, and Lucas laugh.

“Why do you care who I makeout with, Michael? Is it because he’s your friend? Don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll have him back for D&D later tonight. Maybe with a few hickies on his neck, but I promise he’ll be here. Scouts honor.” you said sarcastically, mock saluting Mike before looking at Nancy. “Tell Robin and Steve I said hi and I’ll see them soon. Bye, Nance!”

Before anything else could be said you turned on your heel and walked by Eddie, grabbing his hand and dragging him out the front door. Thankfully all you could hear in the background as you left was Dustin cracking jokes at Mike about how you’d stolen his friend.

Eddie walked you to the passenger side of his van and opened the door for you, allowing you to climb in before shutting the door and making his way to the drivers side and hopping in. You stayed silent as he turned the key before pulling out of the driveway. It was silent for a while before Eddie spoke.

“So I live with my uncle but he won’t be there, he’s at work. So it’ll just be the two of us, if that’s ok.” he said, glancing at you for a moment before focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Kind of prefer it just be us anyways.” you muttered, picking at the black paint on your fingernails.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that, angel?” he asked, never once looking away from the road but a smile tugged at his lips.

“Well… because…” you started, stumbling over your words as your nerves crept up on you.

“I’m joking, Y/N. Calm down, angel.” he said, making a turn down a dirt lane that led into a trailer park. He pulled up in front of one and parked the van and turned it off. He managed to get out of the van and over to your side before you could even reach for the handle and opened your door for you.

“Thank you, Eddie.” you said, taking his outstretched hand as you hopped out of his van. You followed him inside and took a slow look around, taking in your new surroundings.

“Well, angel, welcome to my humble abode. As you can see this is the living room, the kitchens over there, and right down this hallway is my room… if you wanna join me back here for a personal mini concert.” he said, nodding towards the back. 

You giggled and followed him down the hall and entered his room. Posters covered the walls, all of them being rock idols. His room was a mess, but you could tell it was an organized mess. One that you could tell he knew exactly where everything was, even if to an outsider it looked like a tornado ripped through there. You smiled to yourself, feeling very much at home. Eddie’s voice brought you back to reality.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” he said, although it wasn’t to you. You looked to where Eddie was taking an electric guitar down from where it was hung up in front of a mirror. Then he turned to you. “You wanna sit down, Y/N?”

You kicked your shoes off and got on his bed, sitting cross legged, waiting for him to join you. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and adjusted his guitar before beginning to play. You couldn’t pinpoint what song it was, but it was slow and sensual. It made you want to close your eyes and just be consumed by the melody. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his hands, his fingers plucking delicately at the strings, his rings glinting in the light. You so badly wanted to feel those same hands all over your body, his fingers inside you. You had to press your thighs together slightly to alleviate the ache that had formed between them. You had no idea how long he had played for before the music stopped and his voice caught your attention.

“You ok, angel? You were kinda zoning out there for a minute.” he said while getting up to hang his guitar back up, kicking his shoes off along the way.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you said, your mind trailing right back to the dirty thoughts about him. “Eddie, can you come here for a sec, I wanna try something.”

He came back over, looking a bit nervous, sitting down on the edge of the bed and turned his body a bit so he was facing you. You gave him a small smile in an attempt to quell his nerves, as well as your own.

“Close your eyes.” you whispered. He did as you asked and slowly closed his eyes.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before deciding to just do it. Leaning forward you gently pressed your lips against his. You felt him jump at the sudden contact before relaxing and easing into the kiss, his hand immediately coming up to caress your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips as you felt the cool metal of his rings before pulling away slightly.

“Angel…” he whispered, his big brown eyes staring into yours as he smiled at you.

“Eddie… was that ok?” You asked nervously.

“Y/N, that was amazing. Can… can we do it again?”

You practically lunged yourself at him, slotting your lips against his again and climbing onto his lap so you were straddling his thighs. His hands quickly found your hips, holding you tightly against him as he moved his lips against yours.

“Eddie,” you groaned.

“Yes, angel?” he answered between kisses.

“This is why I couldn’t sleep last night. This is what I was thinking about.” you admitted, causing him to grin.

“You were thinking about kissing me?” he asked rather smugly. You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

“Well this… among other things. Dirty things.” you said. He narrowed his eyes at you and smiled.

“Can you tell me?” he encouraged, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

“I’d rather show you.” You said, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing him back on the mattress so you hovered over him.  You looked into his eyes, giving him the most innocent smile you could muster. “Can I show you, Eddie?”

“Show me, baby. Show me what that pretty little head of yours was thinking about.”

You placed your hands on his chest as you readjusted yourself on his lap, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his. His eyes widened for a split second before fluttering shut. The groan that he let out sent a shock straight to your aching core. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open so he could watch you but he was failing miserably, making you giggle.

“Does this feel good, Eddie?” you asked, smiling down at him.

“Y/N, baby, this feels great.” he said, his hands moving to your hips.

“Do you want more?” you asked, grinding your hips harder.

“I’ll take anything you wanna give me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” you whispered, leaning closer to his face. “What if I wanted to mark you up, leave 

hickies on your neck so everyone knows that you’re mine?”

“Do it, princess.” he groaned, his fingers digging hard into your hips. 

You grinned, leaning further down to press your lips to the side of his neck, just below his ear. You kissed the spot before latching on and gently sucking on the skin. The loud whimper that escaped his throat had you absolutely dripping, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your heated skin. You shifted trying to find a more comfortable position but accidentally ended up grinding down on him, his cock pressing just hard enough against your clit to make you moan against his neck.

“Fuck, Eddie!”

“That’s it, baby girl, let me hear you.” he groaned, his hands helping you rock back and forth on his lap. You pulled your face away from his neck and grinned, seeing the bruise you’d left.

“Eddie…. I need… fuck!” you whimpered, unable to form a sentence, too focused on the pleasure that was building as you continued to grind against him.

“What do you need, angel? Use your words for me.”     

“I need more, Eddie.” you whined.

Before you could process what was happening, there was a whirl of movement and you realized that Eddie had flipped you onto your back and he was now hovering over your body. Your heavy breathing got caught in your throat as you looked up at him, seeing his eyes clouded over with lust.

“Tell me to stop, Y/N.” he whispered, his eyes staring into yours. You just gently shook your head, refusing his request. “Baby girl, I want you. So bad. Once I start I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“Do you want me to tell you to stop?” you asked quietly, pouting your lips a little and giving him your best doe eyes as you watched him shake his head. “I thought you wanted to be my dungeon master, baby.”

“Oh I do, princess.” he growled, narrowing his eyes at you slightly. Then he leaned down and affectionately nudged his nose against yours. “But you’ve gotta tell me that you want this as much as I do.”

“Eddie, please. I want this so bad. I want you. Please fuck me?” you begged, hoping he’d finally give in.

“I will, I promise. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. But I wanna taste you first. Can I eat you out, angel?” he asked, his pretty brown eyes staring into yours. You quickly nodded your head, unable to form words.

He grinned down at you before pressing a small kiss against your lips before leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping the skin gently as he went. He stopped at your cleavage before moving down the bed completely so he was on his belly between your legs, staring up at you. You could feel butterflies erupt in your belly as he looked up at you, pure hunger shining in his eyes.

His hands gently pushed your dress up to sit around your waist, exposing your black panties to his gaze. You whimpered as you felt his hands slide up your bare thighs until his fingers reached your core, his middle finger sliding gently up and down your covered slit.

“Eddie…” you whined, bucking your hips, desperate for more friction.

“Angel, you’ve soaked through your panties… you’re so wet…. you’re so fucking wet.” he said in amazement, more to himself than you. You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment as he held up his finger for you to see it shining in the dim light before popping the finger in his mouth to taste you. You had to bite your lip to hold back a moan. His hands gripped the edge of your panties, prepared to pull them down your legs, but he looked up at you first. “Can I take these off, princess?”

“Take them off, Eddie.” you said quickly, lifting your hips to aid him in taking them off. He smiled at you and he tugged them down your legs and discarded them on his bedroom floor. He let his hands wander back up your legs until they rested on your knees and slowly pushed your legs apart.

“Holy fuck.” he groaned, his eyes wide and focused on your dripping cunt.

He leaned down, pressing small kisses against the inside of your thigh, lightly nipping at the skin before soothing it with a gentle lick of his tongue. You whimpered at the sensation and you could feel him smiling against your skin.

“Fuck… Eddie, please!” you begged, looking down at him, your chest heaving with how hard you were breathing. He smirked up at you.

“Is this what you want, angel?” he asked sarcastically before leaning right in and licking a long stripe between your folds, his tongue flicking gently against your clit before pulling away to smile up at you. Your eyes had fluttered shut and your head had fallen back against the pillow, the feeling of his tongue teasing you almost too much for you to handle.

“Baby, please.” you whimpered helplessly.

He wasted no more time, letting his tongue delve back between your folds and licking up your juices like a starved man. The feeling of his tongue pushing into your hole made you rock your hips against his face, fucking yourself on his tongue. He stopped too soon for your liking but before you could speak, his lips suctioned around your aching clit, causing you to practically scream.

“Eddie! Fuck, Eddie! Oh my god!” you moaned, forcing your head up so you could look down at the man between your legs, only to see him staring up at you with his big brown eyes. He continued to lick and suck your clit greedily while he looked up at you. You couldn’t contain the whines, moans, and whimpers that were escaping your throat, the direct stimulation sending you into a frenzy. Eventually his mouth left your abused, aching clit with a wet pop.

“Y/N, baby, you taste so fucking sweet but I wanna be inside you. Can I have you now?” he asked, moving to sit back on his knees between your legs. You nodded your head but that wasn’t enough for him. “No, sweetheart. I need you to use your words.”

“Yes! You can have me! I’m yours! Just please fuck me!” you begged.

“You’re mine, angel? You mean that?” he asked, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor before standing up and working on unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. “You wanna be my girl, Y/N?”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, realizing that everything you ever wanted was standing right in front of you, currently half naked. Eddie truly was perfect for you, and sure, you still had a lot to learn about each other but that was a risk you were more than willing to take.

“Yes, Eddie! I wanna be your girl.” you said, grinning and nodding your head.

“That’s my sweet little angel! You’re mine now, baby.” he said, kicking off his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers which left nothing to the imagination.

You sat up, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move as you shrugged off the denim vest you were wearing and chucking it to the side before grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up and over your head. Eddie’s eyes went comically wide as he saw the black lace, your tits practically spilling out of the cups. You smirked, reaching behind your back and unclipping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and off your body. You tossed your bra to the side before laying back down and stretching your arms up above your head, leaving your entire body fully exposed to his gaze.

“Come and get me, Dungeon Master.” you purred, arching your back enticingly and spreading your legs wide.

Eddie groaned, his hand reaching down to palm himself briefly over his boxers before pushing them down his legs. Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw him. He was big. Bigger than you had expected. And you were absolutely aching for him.

“See something you like, baby?” he teased, slowly stroking his cock as he moved to kneel on the bed between your spread legs.

“Yes!” you gasped as he leaned over you, running his tip through your wet folds. You arched your back again, unable to sit still. “Eddie, baby, I need you. I need to feel you inside me.”

“Alright, baby girl. Calm down.” he chuckled, lining his cock up with your weeping entrance and bracing his hands on either side of your head. He stared into your eyes, searching for any sign that you wanted to stop. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, please… I’m sure.” you whined, bucking your hips in an attempt to get him inside of you.

“Easy, angel. Let me take care of you.”

He slowly slid inside of you, the feeling of him filling you up making your eyes flutter shut and your nails dig into his shoulders, surely leaving little crescent shaped marks on his skin. He let out a loud moan as he bottomed out, his hips now flush against your own.

“Y/N, angel, you’re so fucking tight! Squeezing me so good, baby.” he moaned before leaning down to kiss you again.

He pulled out about halfway before slowly thrusting back in, his tip nudging gently against your cervix. You whimpered against his lips and lifted your hips to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to move faster. He bit down on your bottom lip, giving you a particularly hard thrust and making you moan.

“Oh my god!”

“Not god, sweetheart. Just me.” he said while smirking down at you and rolling his hips against yours, the coarse pubic hair at the base of his cock rubbing roughly against your sensitive clit.

“Mmm so good, Eddie! Need more. Please!” you begged. You weren’t sure what ‘more’ was but you were desperate for it.

He sped up his thrusts and you tossed your head back against the pillows and moaned loudly. You were almost embarrassed by how loud you were being. It was almost pornographic. But you were too far gone to care. And if Eddie’s moans were anything to go off of, he didn’t mind them either.

Without warning he grabbed the backs of your knees, pushing them up against your chest, effectively folding you in half and making you squeak in surprise. He quickly pistoned his hips against yours at an unrelenting pace, making you scream. You could literally feel him in your stomach as he pounded you. He chuckled at your reaction and continued to fuck you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure and the moans continuing to spill from your lips.

“That’s it, angel. Let me hear you. You sound so fucking sexy.” he grunted, his pace faltering for a moment as your cunt started fluttering around his cock.

“Eddie! Oh god! Eddie! Fuck! Mmmm fuck!” you moaned, unable to form a proper sentence. His hard thrusts were making you see stars and your velvety walls flutter erratically around his cock.

“What is it, angel? Do you wanna cum? Your pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight. Do you wanna cum for me? Wanna cum around my cock? Fucking do it! I’m right there with you, sweetheart!” he moaned, fucking you harder than you thought possible. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m gonna cum! Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you whined, staring into his deep brown eyes. You could feel his hips sutter at your words, signaling he was just as close as you were.

“Cum, Y/N! Cum for me, baby girl!” he commanded.

“Oh fuck! Eddie!” you screamed as you felt the bubble of heat that had been building in your stomach finally explode, the heat consuming your entire body. Your pussy spasmed around his hard length and clamped down on him, causing him to still and release inside of you. The moan that accompanied his release was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard, even if you had to fight the ringing in your ears to hear it properly. 

The gasping for breath was the only sound that could be heard as Eddie gently put your legs back down on the bed and slowly pulled out of you. He sat back on knees and looked down at your puffy, swollen pussy where your combined juices began to leak out of you. He grinned to himself before laying down on the bed next to you and propping himself up on his elbow so he could see your face.

“You ok, Y/N?” he asked, using his free hand to swipe away some hair that had stuck to the side of your face with sweat.

“I’m… I’m great actually.” you said, looking at him with your glassed over eyes, still in a post orgasmic haze.

“Yeah? Me too, angel.” he said, laying his head down next to yours and wrapping an arm around you and placing a chaste kiss against your naked shoulder. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” you asked, turning your head to look at him.

“That you’re mine.” he said quietly, his eyes not quite meeting your gaze. Your heart nearly broke at the thought that he might have thought you only said it in the moment. You turned on your side to face him and brought your hand up to cup his cheek, making him look at you.

“I meant every damn word. I’m yours, Eddie. I’m your girl.”

The grin that graced his face was downright adorable.

“You’re not just my girl. You’re my angel.” he said, pecking your lips.

“And you’re my dungeon master.” you giggled, kissing him once more.

You knew Mike would give you two hell and Nancy, Steve, and Robin would bug you for all the dirty details but it was worth it. You could deal with those consequences later. In that moment nothing else mattered. You were his and he was yours. His angel. Your dungeon master. The way things were meant to be.

[entities-of-posts]

The links on the lore masterpost are broken for me :(

I’m going to cry.

Ok so the titles shown there are the tags I used for each arc (be careful to use a straight apostrophe not a curly one in those that have one. Believe me I almost went insane trying to make the links work), plus /chrono at the end to make them show up in the right order. Like this:

https://entities-of-posts.tumblr.com/tagged/the%20fateful%20mass%20ritual/chrono

You should be able to use that model to search for any arc with the title in the masterpost. The links work fine for me though :( you guys have no idea how many hoops I had to jump through to put this in place. I hate tumblr more than I hated Mike on that harrowing night of Another Damn Vast Ritual.

[before-we-get-started]

Dream Come True

Colin Shea x O/C Corinne MacAdam

Multi-Chapter Story - Complete

Summary: Colin Shea and his band Rock the Cradle are finally making it big - until something unexpected happens. When he meets a girl that makes him reconsider his player ways, he thinks his life may be coming together, until she blows it apart.

Warning: Bad language, smut, suicidal ideations - no one under 18, please

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please do not read if you are underage. I do not own the character of Colin Shea; the rest are my original characters. By reading beyond this point, you understand the disclaimers as posted.

Chapter Two

“Hey Colin, you’re not the only one on the court! Pass the ball!”

Colin Shea dribbled once, jerking his head to the right, totally duping the defender trying to keep him from the basket. He took advantage of his opponent taking the bait and drove left, hitting a perfect layup.

“I believe that’s the win, gentlemen,” he said confidently, hands on hips, a broad smile across his handsome face. His spiky blonde hair was damp with sweat and he wiped his face on the front of his t-shirt, revealing defined abs.

“Come on man, best of three.” The other team was already lining up to start a new game.

“Fine,” he said, flashing the smile, ocean blue eyes sparkling. He tossed the basketball across to his opponent.

Colin’s team huddled up. “Look, I know you’re the leader of the band, but we’re supposed to be a team out here,” grinned Kevin, one of his teammates. His whole band was here – Mike, Evan and Spencer rounding out the five. “Let’s show them the razzle dazzle this time.”

Colin grinned. He loved razzle dazzle. At their meeting yesterday, the guys had agreed playing hoops was the best way to kill the nervous energy they all had for tonight, their first real shot at a recording contract. They’d played the same three bars for several years, developing a local following but never attracting any attention from anyone that could help them get further - until last week, when a producer from National Records had stopped in to Finnegan’s for a beer while in town for a conference. He was immediately drawn to the band on stage – young, full of energy and great musicians. The song they were singing was catchy but not familiar – could it be an original? They were almost too good to be true.

He’d caught them after they finished their set and got their story – high school friends that all had some kind of music in their background, and all believed they were good enough to live off their talent. They’d formed a band junior year of high school and had been together since. They’d all finished college but stayed together and continued to play. Their biggest claim to fame was playing the birthday party of the daughter of one of the Red Sox. Other than that, it was the three bars, some parties and lots of hope.

Tonight they’d discuss the potential to start the process of recording five original songs to be marketed by National. They’d tried streaming their music before, but this would give them an incredible boost. The next step would be a tour – the producer was considering hooking them up with two other bands that would head out for the summer. Come June, they’d be seeing the country on National Records’ dime. All of their hard work would finally pay off.

The other team inbounded the ball to start the third game, all of the players hyped and vocal. Spencer slapped the ball away from the opponent, bounce passing it to Kevin.

“Razzle dazzle!” he yelled, throwing the ball high to the hoop. Colin swooped in and reached up, dunking the ball with force. He saw Kevin throw his fist in the air just as he caught an opposing player with his leg, throwing him straight back. He landed flat on the cement, and everything went dark.

Serene. That was the only word Cori could use to describe it. She was surrounded by serenity. Soft golden light, crystal blue water and silence. Total silence. She began to walk towards a cliff, water as far as she could see sprawled across the horizon. She felt light, almost like a feather. Her steps were slow and steady. Only a few more and she’d finally be free of all the pain.

She reached the edge and stared below. Turquoise water, calm and inviting. The sky was golden. The air was warm. It felt as though she was enveloped in comfort. She imagined for a moment how good it would feel to sink into the still water below and readied herself for one last step.

She stopped for just a second to steady herself and lifted her foot but felt something on her arm. Looking over her shoulder, there was someone. Her view was a little hazy. A guy, she thought. He was tall, with blonde spiky hair, a sweaty t-shirt and baggy gym shorts, and the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen, more beautiful than the water below. The shirt bunched up around strong biceps. It sagged at the neckline, revealing the definition of his pecs, a silver chain and a tattoo with a few unreadable words peeking out. His nose was angled, a little crook at the top, and his lips were those of dreams – pink and pillowy. He was beautiful.

She took him in for a minute and assessed the situation. Was this the afterlife? Perhaps there really were angels. He certainly qualified. Maybe he was escorting her to the end.

“Don’t.” His voice was a deep baritone, just as sexy as he was. “Don’t take this step.”

She looked into those eyes and sighed. “Why?”

He hesitated – “it’s not time.”

She thought about that. He was mistaken. “It is,” she said. “Past time. Please let go. It’s what’s best, trust me.”

He tightened his grip a little, gently pulling her back toward him. “Not yet.”

She turned her body so she was facing him and she had to look up at him, taking in his broad shoulders. His hair was damp, his cheeks red like maybe he’d been running.

“Thank you, really, but I have to go. It’s ok.”

“No,” he said more sternly, pulling her a little closer.

She wasn’t angry or frustrated, just determined. “I have to go. It’s what’s best.” She tried to pull her arm away from him but she found herself in his embrace. She looked up and her nose was inches from his. His full lips were set in a grim line, his eyebrows scrunched with concern.

“Please,” she breathed softly. “I know you mean well. I just need to go. It’s too hard to stay. It hurts too much.” She felt a tear run down her cheek. Taking this last step would finally make the tears end.

He relaxed the frown a little, his face suddenly etched with concern. “What if this is just what’s easiest? What if there’s something you haven’t done yet? You’ll miss it.”

She let her head drop, the tears now flowing freely. “There’s nothing. There’s nothing for me,” she said, a soft sob escaping.

“I think you’re wrong. What if you’re wrong?” He pulled her a little closer, his strong arms now cradling her tightly.

She rested her head on his chest. It felt so good, so comfortable. His arms were so secure. He was warm and soft and despite the sweaty shirt, he smelled musky and masculine. It would be so easy to just relax into his embrace. But she didn’t deserve that.

She looked up at him and mustered a half smile. “Thank you. But I know. There’s nothing else for me. It’s all gone. I just want to go.” She tried her best to break out of his embrace but he wasn’t letting go.

“Not now. It’s not time.” He freed a hand to cradle her cheek, then pulled her face to his, his lips on hers. His kiss was warm and sweet and she felt as if she was floating on air. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss even more, wrapping her arms around his neck, fingers digging into his damp hair. It suddenly felt as if lightning was striking all around them. He pulled her so close she thought she might have become part of him. Her entire body was bathed in warmth, and then a chill enveloped her as he faded away –

“Clear!” She felt a jolt go through her, snapping her back to painful reality. Bright lights shown down on her. Every inch of her hurt. The pain was unbearable. She let out a scream and fell unconscious.

[numbaoneflaya]

I got a lot for you, you don't have to answer all of these 💀. 2, 4, 8, 21, 35, and 50 for Jilly. 3, 7, 10, 41, and 64 for Valkya. And 6, 7, 14, 25, and 52 for Mike. And a large fry 😁

I FINALLY DID ITTTTTT IM SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! all under the cut bcs ofc its LONG

JILLY

2. What are their favourite possessions? Why? (sentimentality, history, price, etc)

-She has 2 stuffed ferrets shes had since she was little :) she calls them stinker and slinker and she loves them so much. Also a collection of friendship bracelets she pretty much makes matching ones for everyone she likes and wears them in rotation.

4. Are they a good gift-giver? What do they tend to give as gifts? -Jilly LOVES gift giving bcs she naturally hoards and steals shit and then ends up with too much shit, so what better to do with it than give to friends?? You're likely to get anything she can swipe that reminds her of u. Tries to vary it to suit whoever shes giving a gift to but her go to is something like stuffed animals and jewelry bcs thats what she likes best

8. What does their dream house look like?

-She would like an at home gym with giant climbable pillars and hoops and obstacles, or just a house with a lot of land and forest she can run around in. She's also way a fan of hidden passages and secret hiding places, anything she can snoop and weasel around in. No scary basement tho

21. What’s their ideal date like?

-Carnival or theme park! Anything with lots of action and noise and prizes. Shed want to play all the games for hours straight and go on all the biggest rides.

36. Do they trust easily? What would you have to do to earn their trust?

-Yes she trusts easily :/ mayhaps too easily. Her way of thinking is innocent until proven guilty and even then, it takes a looooot to make her start to doubt someone because she wants to believe everyone has good intentions. To earn her trust, being nice to her and other ppl is the easiest way, but she's also prone to trust you if you seem secure somehow or just in charge like a position of authority.

50. Why would they be a good partner for a road trip?

-Snacks. On demand. She packs every snack and drink you could ever hope for and stashes up on blankets and pillows too. The type to wanna play my spy and car games and to sing along really loudly to music. WILL stick her head out the window sometimes. Will want to stop at every roadside attraction. Just for fun the reason she might be a bad roadtrip partner is that she talks a lot. And will be loudly singing and sticking her head out the window. And after a while the car will start to smell vaguely of ferret and she might shed.

--------

VALKYA

3. Do they get jealous easily? If so, what usually causes it?

-Shes really not a jealous person at all, especially not romantically. Shes pretty chill in general. Even so, some times she gets jealous of all the time other people get to spend with Naryu. If Valkya feels like someone else is being prioritized over her shes more likely to act out like a baby ggdghdf

7. What’s their “type”? What romantically attracts them to another person?

-Women who could kill her and men who are pathetic, but shes open to anything. Has a thing for nerds, goths, vampires, werewolves, short people, assassins, and most importantly people who are easy to fluster. She will bone anything that moves

10. What’s a simple thing that brings them joy?

-Finishing a good book, especially a series. When shes not in life threatening danger or fucked up out of her mind shes a pretty avid reader. She likes having the free time to sit around a fireplace and snuggle up with a book, though she'll deny it if caught and say she doesnt know how to read hgfdgsd.

41. What would they dress up as for Halloween?

-Demetria 💀 shed just steal her clothes and stretch TF out of em gsdgdfhsd. Or dress up as herself bcs who needs originality when your famous?

64. Describe what their social media would be like.

- Random memes from the last century all mixed up, millions of selfies and nudes out of nowhere. Drunk posting at 4 am and getting into fights w Dem over dumb shit, subtweeting everyone to start drama. Has thousands of followers and does giveaways of shit she finds lying around her house for no reason but shes bored

-----------------

MIKE

6. Do they prefer to have a big social circle, or a few close friends?

-Shed prefer to have a few close friends as long as they ride or die. Most likely die tho. Shes desperate for frienship shell stalk someone to get to know them really well and then delude herself into thinking theyr besties. Sometimes it doesnt go well but she still gets a meal out of it even if shes sad

7. What’s their “type”? What romantically attracts them to another person?

-Someone who looks like they're up for fun! Really into alt fashion and people who seem like they dont give a shit. Confidence, fighters, rebels, anyone she can party hard with. Likes people who are interesting and is especially interested in befriending other killers, they have so much to bond about!

14. Who do they go to in a crisis/emergency? Any particular reason why they choose that person?

-Probably Zeke tbh. Since she turned him hes like the only other vamp besides prim she knows and hes always pretty level headed. Probably goes to him for advice on how to make friends and hes like “maybe dont break into ppls houses and drain their victims out of nowhere :/” and shes like “that was ONE TIME and it worked!!”

25. What are their dreams like?

-All chaotic! Theres seldom ever a storyline or anything, just bright colors and random things happening and an overlying sense of panic or dread. Like those images you look at to understand what having a stroke is like, everything is off color and melting and shes usually running away from something. Typically nightmares but about nothing in particular, just disconnected sounds shapes and figures.

52. What topic should nobody bring up around them, lest the other person be subject to a massive ramble/rant?

-ANYTHING to do with twilight. She knows everything about it. Has seen and read is 12 times over and can quote it directly at any time, do not attempt to argue twilight with her. Diehard team Edward forever. If your tied up and somehow the topic of it comes up just pray she kills you soon bcs she will go on for hours and bring out her annotated copies and force you to go through them with her.

[c-nan]

Baked In Love

Hey y’all, this fanfic is ready for the eyes of someone other than me! The AO3 link will be attached through reblog! Please enjoy!

Summary: Lena Luthor just want's to give her girlfriend, Kara Danvers, a proper celebration. 

Word Count: 1,815

Lena was never a fan of Quidditch, but watching her girlfriend—Hufflepuff captain and star chaser—weave her way through the other players with ease was enough to keep Lena’s attention on the field. The cold winter breeze bit at Lena’s hands and the cloak she wore did nothing to block the rest of her body from the cold. She buried her chin in Kara’s Hufflepuff scarf, taking in the familiar scent of cinnamon rolls. 

Sam and Winn huddled around her to preserve warmth, their breathes coming out in puffs of condensed air. James stood, clutching the railing, enraptured in the game and unaffected by the cold.

“Come on Kara,” he yelled as she broke through the crowd of players, heading straight towards Leslie, the Slytherin keeper. Lena held her breath in anticipation, eyes glued on Kara.

Leslie darted between the three hoops in a vain attempt to keep Kara from scoring. She flew fast, but Kara flew faster, aiming at the first available hoop and scoring yet another ten points for Hufflepuff.

The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer, stomping their feet, resembling a stampede of thresterals. Lena couldn’t help but add her own voice in the roaring of cheers. 

“You really suck at being a Slytherin,” Winn told Lena once the noise died down. 

Lena had no time to answer, for the Slytherin stands broke into their own set of cheers. Lena looked back towards the field, her eyes drawn to Mike, who sped above the stands, holding the snitch with an outstretched arm for all to see. She shot a sympathetic glance to Kara, who’s eyes were glued to the scoreboard. A smile crawled across Kara’s face as the Slytherin cheers died down. Lena followed her gaze, a smile of her own forming.

Slytherin may have caught the snitch, but Kara and the other Hufflepuff chasers earned enough points to beat Slytherin by ten points. 

Lena wasted no time, pushing through the exhilarated crowd of Hufflepuffs and practically sprinting down the stairs. She wanted to congratulate Kara in person before her team whisked her away to throw one of their parties that always lasted well into the night. 

She reached the last step just in time to see Barry hoist Kara onto his shoulders. 

“Kara!” She yelled as loud as she could, the Hufflepuff cheers roaring loud behind her. Kara glanced back and gave Lena a smile that could outshine the sun. Lena’s insides melted and heat rose to her cheeks. Kara never failed to have that effect on her. Kara’s smile was accompanied by her hands that formed into a heart. 

Lena made a heart of her own before Kara turned to face forward, cheering with her teammates. Lena watched them go, her face pulling into a frown and her shoulders slumping.

“What's with the long face?” Sam appeared by her side.

“It’s nothing.” Lena waved off Sam’s concern.  

Sam, not convinced, follows Lena’s line of sight. Her face broke into a sly grin. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” Winn and James appeared at their side. Winn raised his eyebrows in question.

“Lena didn’t get to give Kara a celebratory kiss,” Sam said, earning herself a punch to the shoulder and a piercing glare from Lena.

“Oh. Well, I can sneak you into the party if you’d like,” Winn said.

“A Slytherin crashing a Hufflepuff party?” Lena asked. “That doesn’t seem like the best course of action.” She kept her eyes trained on the castle, her face burning. “I’ll wait, it's not like I haven’t before.”

Sam, Winn, and James looked at eachother then Lena before bursting into laughter.

—

Lena spent the rest of the day keeping her mind off of Kara by playing wizard chess with Sam and studying in the library. When night fell, she parted from her friends to start on her Head Girl duties. Those of which included patrolling the hall for students out after curfew. 

Lena usually enjoyed the task, for she had time to plan her schedule for the next day, but that night, her brain thought not of schedules. It was too focused on a certain blonde. Lena tried to deny her brain access to thoughts of Kara, but after walking down the same hall three times, she gave in. Images of Kara flying around and the little smiles and winks she would send Lena’s way every so often assaulted Lena’s mind, bringing a smile to her lips.

Thinking of Kara made Lena regret her decision to reject Winn’s offer. She would endure the boisterous party atmosphere if it meant seeing her girlfriend. Sighing, she knew the moment was past. Her legs, however, didn't get the memo and pulled her towards the kitchens and inevitably the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

A mix of laughter and music could be heard from behind the barrel. Lena contemplated sneaking in. It’s not like she hasn't before. But during those times, there wasn’t a party and she could get by undetected. Now…

Lena’s eyes drifted towards the kitchens, an idea forming. She couldn’t get to Kara undetected with the party going around, but she could lure her to the kitchens…

Lena, mind made up, finished her Head Girl duties at record speed, then retracted back to the kitchens. Stepping behind the fruit painting, a small chorus of voices met her. 

“Ms. Luthor!” Pommey nudged her way through the small crowd of night-shift house-elves. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” She glanced behind Lena. “Where is Ms. Danvers?”

Her question brought another onslaught of voices from the other house elves, all glancing around with curious eyes.  

A fond smile found Lena’s lips as she remembered all the times Kara had drug her there when they were supposed to be studying. The house-elves loved Kara’s infectious optimism and radiating smile almost as much as Lena did.

“She’s not with me, unfortunately,” Lena said, crossing the room to the assorted array of pots and pans that sat on shelves against the wall. The house-elves tried to hide their disappointment, only grumbling a little. Lena just laughed. “Don’t worry, she will be here soon. I just need help before I call for her.” 

The house-elves rushed to her side.

“I need a blanket,” Lena said, retrieving a bowl from one of the shelves. “One that is big enough to sit two.”

Half of the elves disappeared with a crack and returned seconds later, assaulting Lena with an abundance of blankets. Laughing, she thanked each elf in turn, setting the blankets aside. 

“I now need someone to help me with a cake.”

The elves tripped over themselves in a rush to find supplies. Soon, Lena had a row of ingredients and an army of eager elves. 

“Let's get baking.”

An hour later, Lena, covered in flower and chocolate, pulled the cake out of the oven, a self-satisfied smile on her face. She cut the cake into even pieces and sat it on the table closest to the fireplace. 

Lena swept the cake debris off of her as Pommey asked, “Are you ready for Ms. Danvers?”

“Yes, please,” Lena said, grabbing a blanket, spreading it in front of the fireplace. “You have all been an amazing help. Thank you.” Lena plucked the cake off the table and settled it next to her as she sat on the comfy fabric. The heat from the fire licked her face as she sighed in content. 

Pommey disappeared with a small pop as the other house-elves broke into excited whispers. 

Lena waited, her heart thumping hard in her chest, hoping Kara would like the surprise. She had never done anything like this before. Normally Kara instigated all things romantic. Minutes passed as slow as hours, as Lena watched the door, ideas filling her head on what she could’ve done to make the night better. 

When the door finally opened, Lena’s heart crawled into her throat and a wave of self-doubt washed over her.

The sight of Kara--although looking like she just came from wrestling a pixie, her hair sticking up at odd angles and her tie crooked--banished all the negative thoughts from Lena’s mind. Kara would appreciate anything Lena would do because she was Kara. Sweet, lovable Kara who Lena loved. 

Also, it helped that food was involved. 

“Pommey, as much as I love you guys, I can’t stay for long. James challenged me to a game of exploding snap and-“ Kara spotted Lena, effectively cutting off whatever she was about to say. Her face broke into a smile that nearly stopped Lena’s heart.  “Lena, what are you doing here?”

The house-elves greeted Kara with as much enthusiasm as they did Lena if not more, clamoring over each other as if Kara were a celebrity. To the house-elves, she was. 

“She made a cake!” one yelled. Kara’s eyes found Lena’s once more, her expression eager.

“I thought I’d treat you to a more civilized celebration.” Lena patted the space next to her. One by one, the house-elves disappeared to give the girls privacy. Though, not before they received high-fives from Kara as she made her way to Lena. 

“I’ll have you know, Hufflepuff is the most civilized of houses,” Kara said as she sat. 

Lena scoffed, knocking her shoulder against Kara’s. “Tell that to the Butterbeer stain.”

Kara groaned, looking down at the dark stain that covered the midsection of her sweater. “I just had this washed.” Kara rubbed at the spot. 

Lena laughed, grabbing Kara’s hands, pulling her down onto the blanket. “Congratulations on the win. You were amazing.”

“Well, I couldn’t look bad in front of you.”

“Never.”

Lena turned away from Kara and sat back in the quidditch player's firm embrace. Strong arms wrapped around her as Kara’s chin rested on Lena’s shoulder. Sitting there with Kara, Lena couldn’t imagine any better way to celebrate. Lena turned her head to capture Kara’s lips. The kiss felt warm and soft and perfect. It was everything Lena could've asked for. 

Kara pulled back entirely too soon, leaving Lena to groan in protest and try in vain to recapture Kara’s lips. 

Kara smirked, releasing her hold to swipe at Lena’s nose. “Looks like I’m not the only messy one.” Kara held up a flour covered finger. Lena’s face burned as Kara laid a small peck on her lips, then left their romantic bubble to crawl towards the cake. 

Grabbing a slice and shoving it into her mouth, Kara made a sound of delight. “This is so good!” Kara’s eyes found Lena’s. The tenderness Lena saw in Kara’s gaze sent a flutter of butterfly’s loose in Lena’s stomach.  “I couldn’t ask for better company”--Kara took another bite--”or cake.”

Lena’s heart melted in her chest as she watched Kara devour two pieces in less than a minute. 

No, Lena was not a fan of Quidditch, but she was a fan of her girlfriend.

[thisbrokenmask]

V for Vivian

pairing: female reader x Kim Seokjin

genre: angst, romance

word count: 5,409

warnings: nothing explicit, but there are descriptions of a toxic relationship

summary: certain that your ex sort-of boyfriend won’t turn up to taehyung’s new year’s eve costume party, you go ahead with your half of the couple’s costume you’d planned. 

a/n: I need to stop writing 5k+ ‘drabbles’ in 24 hours, but I wanted to get at least a line of my @btsholidaybingo​​ card completed before New Year! I have two left to do tonight, so hopefully I’ll get them in before the clock ticks over to 2021 here in the UK. Somehow my ‘Costume Party’ prompt became this 5.4k word story, but hopefully it’s okay. Massive shout out to @hereinyourarmsforever​ for putting up with me sending her these at all hours of the day - couldn’t do it with you ♥

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea~” Namjoon singsongs from your bed. He’s lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, the same position he’s been in for the last twenty minutes while you’ve been getting ready. His feet are hanging off the edge to keep his shoes from getting on your sheets, even though they’re brand new and basically clean, especially considering they’ve only touched the floor outside when he’s gotten in and out of his Uber to your apartment. “You know he’ll think you did it for him.”

“I still don’t think he’ll be coming~” you sing back as you adjust your wig, a blonde bob that frames your face. You decide to bypass pinning it tonight, knowing that it will be held on by your hat until you decide to take them both off later. “Besides, if he turns up, he’ll just look like any other guy in a suit,” you sniff dismissively as you pick up your large gold hoop earrings. “I, however, will look hot as fuck whether he’s there or not. See?”

You turn and pose for Namjoon, who looks up just as you’re pushing your red painted lips into an exaggerated pout, blowing him a kiss. 

You laugh when his jaw actually drops and he stares at you unabashedly, blinking at you from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. His eyes rake across your frame, taking in the large cut outs in your dress, the skirt of which finishes way above mid-thigh, and dropping all the way down to the black, knee-high boots on your feet, safety pins instead of zips for added effect. 

“No?”

Namjoon’s eyes snap upwards, mouth still gaping like a lost fish. 

“Huh?” You smirk at the way his voice catches in his throat as he adjusts himself on the bed, not so subtly trying to adjust himself in his khaki cargo pants at the same time. At least they give him some breathing room, you think to yourself deviously, wondering if you’ll have the same effect on everyone else going to the party tonight. 

“Hot as fuck, or?” You turn on the spot, shimmying your hips to make sure your exposed waist draws attention, grabbing your paperboy hat from your dressing table as you go. With a pointed look at your long-term friend, you pinch the bill of your cap between your fingers and pull it down over your wig, relying on it to keep everything secure for at least the first hour of the party. “Or not so much?”

“Definitely hot as fuck,” Namjoon agrees, nodding as vehemently as he can without taking his eyes off of you. “Yeah, screw Seokjin-hyung,” he declares after a few more seconds of inspecting you. “You’re wearing that whether he’s going or not.” 

“I’m glad you agree, kind sir,” you laugh, preening under his attention and performing a curtsey that pushes your skirt even higher up your legs. You try not to spare too much thought to the brief mention of your sort-of ex, too many complicated feelings thrumming under your ribcage at the thought of him. You grab your coat, a cheap red one you found on eBay and super-glued some fake black fur cuffs onto, and your favourite black purse as you usher Namjoon to follow you. “Because I have nothing else.”

Part of you really doesn’t want to see Seokjin, still mad at the way he easily brushed off any talk of commitment one too many times. Everyone thought you were together, your friends referred to you as one of the couples of the group, and yet he would always make a point of saying you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend - you just… went together. 

Another part of you, though, wants him to be there. Wants him to turn up at Taehyung’s apartment in his stupid suit that makes him look like he walked right off the runway, just so he can see you dressed in Julia Roberts’ knockout opening outfit from Pretty Woman. You could probably have a few guys eating out of your hands with just a bat of your eyelashes to prove a point to him, too. 

You don’t need him, not if he doesn’t want you.  

“I’m sure Taehyung wouldn’t complain if you went naked,” Namjoon ponders, and you can tell by the slightly dreamy tone to his voice that he’s definitely thinking about it. You lightly elbow him in the ribs as he follows you out of your front door before you turn to lock it and he laughs, adjusting his glasses. 

“You look good, by the way,” you tell him as the two of you turn to the building’s elevator. “Who are you again? Mike?”

“It’s Milo,” Namjoon whines as he steps in behind you, tapping at his phone for an Uber. This is the fifth time you’ve gotten the name wrong and by now he’s certain you’re doing it on purpose. 

“Ah, yes, Milo. From Atlanta-”

“Atlantis.”

“Right, right,” you grin as the doors open and you step out into the lobby. “Atlantis.”

Taehyung’s apartment is significantly bigger than yours, easily hosting at least 50-odd people for his New Year’s costume party, and you happily let yourself in like it’s your name on the buzzer. Namjoon follows, your hand wrapping tightly around his fingers to keep him close as you start to make your way through the throng of people. He keeps his expression as blank as he can when he eyes any guy who gives you a double or triple take, fiercely protective of you despite your assertions that you can handle yourself.

He’s known you long enough, though, to know that there’s only so much attention you can enjoy before you get overwhelmed. He knows large crowds panic you, which is why you’re gripping onto him so tightly, scared of getting separated from the people you’re comfortable with. You may bask in the attention of flings and passersby, but you are really only happy to spend time with those you know well.  

You spot Taehyung’s mop of dark curls through the gaudy costumes and head straight towards him, dropping Namjoon’s fingers. You know he’ll be right behind you no matter what. You move as fast as you can without pushing anyone over, a grin already plastered on your face before you reach the evening’s host. 

“TaeTae!” you call out and he whips round, completely forgetting whoever he was talking to as a wide boxy smile takes over his face at the sight of you. He scoops you up when you jump, his arms around your waist as he spins you round in a hug. He puts you down just as Namjoon makes his way into the little pocket of space that always seems to form around Taehyung.

“Hey, kitten,” Taehyung croons into your ear and you flush at the nickname that only Taehyung calls you. There’s always been an unspoken attraction between you and Taehyung, unspoken only because it’s so blatantly obvious that neither of you actually need to say it. You’ve never acted on it, both gluttons for the excitement of dancing around each other and having someone decent to flirt with at parties. The number of ‘almosts’ with Taehyung are too many to count and, still riding the wave of confidence Namjoon’s reaction gave you earlier, you’re sure tonight will be another almost-notch on the bedpost. “You look great.”

His nose brushes against your ear before he pulls away, turning to greet Namjoon, acknowledging the older man for the first time. 

“Who are you meant to be?” Namjoon and Taehyung ask each other at the same time, staring at each other with critical gazes and you burst out laughing between them. 

Taehyung’s brow twitches as he takes in Namjoon’s brown boots, his khaki-green pants and his cream sweatshirt, a light jacket thrown over the top (that you know Namjoon will hide away in Taehyung’s spare closet so he doesn’t lose it). You join Taehyung in his scrutiny of Namjoon’s outfit, but you rather admire how his chest fills it out, how his styled hair sits perfectly above his wire-rimmed glasses.

Namjoon eyes Taehyung’s military-style jacket in return, brow furrowing at the frilly black cuffs peeking out at the end of his sleeves, the white ruff at his neck and the two red stripes of face paint across his cheek in return. You love Taehyung’s outfit and you must admit you’re impressed with the level of detail he’s been able to achieve, down to his black painted nails. You’re pretty sure no part of his outfit came from eBay.

“You’re meant to come in a costume,” Taehyung says, eyes zoning in on the book in Namjoon’s hand. “Not your normal stuff.”

Namjoon stares back at him blankly. 

“Do you literally ever see me dress like this on a normal day.”

“I mean-”

“It’s a costume.” He insists, and Taehyung snickers.

“He’s Mike from Atlantis,” you supply, Taehyung leaning closer to you to listen, an arm snaking under your coat and curling around your waist. You suppress a shiver at the heat of his palm against your skin, his fingertips sinking into the curve of your waist.

Namjoon’s eyes quickly flicker down to watch the movement before he levels his gaze at you, his jaw clenching when he arches an eyebrow at you. You can see the playful glint in his eyes and you’re trying just as hard not to laugh as you bite your lip to keep your giggles in check, clinging onto Taehyung’s jacket as he looks on in amusement.

“Wasn’t he called Milo?” Taehyung asks and you see Namjoon’s eyes literally light up.

“Yes! Thank you,” he excitedly claps a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, jostling the two of you slightly but he’s so happy to hear someone get the name right after all the times you’ve said it wrong that you can’t help but smile.

“And Tae is clearly Adam Ant,” you say, pressing your hand to Taehyung’s chest and smiling up at him. “Gotta brush up on your 80s rock bands, Joonie.” Taehyung stands taller, chest pressed forward into your palm, clearly glad that someone has picked up on his costume first try.

“Yeah, Joonie,” Taehyung grins, knowing Namjoon won’t hurt him, especially not in front of you. 

“Drink, Valerie?” Namjoon asks, purposefully getting your name wrong in a failed attempt to annoy you. You grin.

“Yes please, Joonie.”

“Usual?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“You got cherries?” he asks Taehyung, who looks offended that Namjoon even had to ask.

“Of course.”

With a nod, Namjoon heads off to the kitchen before stopping himself, looking back to Taehyung. “Look after her,” he warns, voice dropping low. Taehyung pulls you closer with a nod, hand slipping onto your hip as Namjoon starts to pick his way through the crowd.

“So,” Taehyung hums when Namjoon finally leaves you alone together, guiding you by his grip on your hip to the edge of the room. Several partygoers vacate the sofa pushed up against the wall when Taehyung approaches, allowing the two of you to sink down into the velvet together. “You look great, Victoria,” he teases, leaning in close with his hand still firmly on your hip.

“Thanks,” you cross one leg over the other, your boot brushing against Taehyung’s knee as his gaze drops down to the skin of your thighs. “Pretty Woman is one of my favourites, and this was probably my favourite look in the whole movie,” you say, repressing a shiver as he lets his free hand ghost against the side of your thigh. His eyes are dark and hooded but he’s still attentive, listening intently. You’re pretty sure you could talk about the colour of his ceiling right now and he’d be just as enraptured. 

“Mine too,” he says, voice low enough for only you to hear. His fingertips ghost the hem of your skirt, barely inches from a heat that always grows when you’re near him. “Especially on you.” He pauses, gaze dark as the hand on your hip climbs back up to your waist and keeps rising, drawing light circles across your ribs. “Although that scene in the bath is a close second.”

“Want me to badly sing Prince songs to you, Tae?” you tease, reaching up to finger the gold detailing on the lapels of his jacket. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest under your fingers. 

“If you’ll be wet and naked and covered in bubbles, you can sing whatever you want,” he grins. “Want me to go fill up the tub?”

“Maybe later,” you say, and it’s not entirely a lie. You’re pretty sure you wouldn’t turn down a bath with Taehyung given the opportunity, but you doubt either of you will remember this conversation within the hour. “This was supposed to be a couples costume, you know,” you sigh, letting the jacket drop back off your shoulders to pool on the sofa. Taehyung watches the material fall, absentmindedly licking his lips when his eyes rove over your newly-exposed skin. “But no way was I passing up wearing this outfit just because we weren’t coming together.”

“Very good choice,” Taehyung says, pressing his lips to your shoulder in a lingering kiss and you feel heat curl in your abdomen. “I would have had to kick Seokjin out if you’d come in something else because of him.”

He feels you tense under his hands and presses another quick kiss to your shoulder, his wandering hands pausing, relaxing to be more comforting than exciting.

“So he did come, then,” you mumble, refraining from turning to search through the crowd and focusing on fiddling with Taehyung’s buttons. 

“He did.”

“Is he-?”

“Dressed as Richard Gere?” Dark umber stares back at you when you meet his gaze, soft around the edges. “Yeah, he is.”

“Goddammit,” you huff, letting your body drop into the back of the sofa. You were hoping he’d at least come as something else, if he was going to come. It wasn’t like Seokjin didn’t look good in a suit, very much the opposite actually, but without you dressed as Julia Roberts on his arm, you figured he’d switch to a different costume that could be recognisable on its own. “Where is he?” you ask, picking at the hem of your dress while Taehyung puts his hand on your knee, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. His other hand slides across the back of the sofa and you lean your head against his forearm.

“Dunno,” he says without even looking at the crowd around you. “Don’t care, to be honest. I’m just glad you still came. But I’ll keep him away from you, if you want.” 

You smile up at him, knowing that he’s just as protective over you as Namjoon. You’re well aware that the two of them both have feelings for you, a cause of contention between them as they both feel the other isn’t good enough for you. Whether it’s simply lust or something more, you’re not sure, but you’ve never been able to say wholeheartedly that you felt the same about either of them and so you never allowed anything to happen. Taehyung is fun to flirt with, and he knows the limits he’s allowed to dance around with you, whereas Namjoon is your best friend, for years the two of you have been each other’s go-to dates for work events and other things you’d rather die than go to alone.

You’ve made it clear where you stand with both of them, and they respect those boundaries. 

Seokjin, however, had been incredibly confusing for you. He could be incredibly sweet, even domestic when you’d spend weekends in his penthouse with him and you’d quietly become exclusive without a conversation. He’d never said so himself, but you knew from whispers on the socialite grapevine that Taehyung kept you tapped into that he wasn’t seeing anyone else. 

You’d had a few flings over the years, nothing too serious but at least they were willing to publicly claim you were seeing each other. Seokjin had never done that for you, but you’d been more like a couple than any other relationship you’d ever had before. He was definitely the first person who made you feel so fiercely you feared your chest would burst just from him looking at you. The first man to make you feel like you wanted to be with someone long term. 

You haven’t seen him since he let you walk out of Jimin’s Halloween party, although ‘party’ may be too casual a term for the events Jimin throws. Halloween had been an elegant masquerade ball in an old theatre uptown, every room lavishly bathed in purple and silver, from the drapes to the wait staff’s outfits. 

You’d been drawn into yet another conversation about the nature of your relationship when Jimin’s latest flame had asked how long you’d been together, although Jimin had quickly dragged her away with the lure of more champagne to avoid the impending argument. 

You’d jokingly suggested that maybe you should put a label on whatever it was between you and Seokjin, if anything to make those conversations easier, but he hadn’t agreed. Oh no, he’d told you to stop trying to fit other people’s expectations rather than doing what you wanted for yourself. When you’d shot back that maybe you did want to put a label on it, he’d told you firmly, again, that he’d never agreed that would happen. You accused him of giving you whiplash, of treating you like he loved you one minute then acting like you were nothing more than a fuck on speed dial the next. At least Jimin acted like he liked his flings, could bear to be seen with them in public and admitted to the connection, however brief. Seokjin had fallen into stony silence instead of replying, sipping his champagne as he watched the party, making it clear the conversation was over without walking away.

So you did, instead. 

You found Jimin, who protested profusely when you pressed a kiss to his cheek as you said goodbye, and walked out without looking back.

You have only heard from Seokjin once since, a single text that you’d refused to answer, and when he hadn’t tried again you’d assumed that, whatever it had been between you, was over. You weren’t going to be the one to extend the olive branch this time, tired of waving a tattered white flag and being the first to break the silence. If he’d wanted you, he’d known where to find you, known which circles you ran in and which friends he could scout out. 

But he didn’t.

Fuck him, you thought, shaking off the growing ache in your chest and forcing a smile to your lips as you considered Taehyung’s offer.

“Don’t worry, Taetae, I’m sure he won’t be seeking me out any time soon.”

“If he does, you come find me, okay? Or Namjoon,” he adds, and you can tell it almost pains him to suggest you go to someone other than himself. “I don’t want him ruining your night.”

“I won’t let him,” you say resolutely, although neither of you quite believe your words. 

You’re not quite sure how it’s happened, but you’re still wearing your hat two hours later despite having lost your wig from underneath it. You have a vague memory of Jungkook dancing around with a blonde bob, but you’ve had several more Cherry Bombs following the first one Namjoon had made you earlier. He had been making them for you, but when you’d figured out he was skimping on the rum, you stopped telling him when your cup was empty, much to Taehyung’s amusement. 

That’s where you are now, in the kitchen making your next drink in a daze, popping a cherry in your mouth as you go through the motions. 

The kitchen is pretty much empty by this point, most of the partygoers having  collapsed into plush sofas around the apartment or filed out to the balcony ready for the fireworks. You know both Taehyung and Namjoon are out there waiting for you, although your head is a little fuzzy on who you would rather be standing next to when the clock ticks over. 

You’re pondering if you’d be capable of convincing them both to kiss a cheek each at the same time when someone else enters the kitchen. You don’t notice the footsteps coming toward you until you get a strange feeling down your spine, but you just figure someone else is waiting for something you’re using. 

“I’ll be done with the rum in a second,” you say cheerfully, finishing your pour and putting it out to the side for them to grab, but they don’t move.

“I don’t drink rum,” a familiar voice murmurs, sending a chill down your spine that’s definitely not coming from the ice cubes in your hand. “You know that, Y/N.” He takes a step towards you, not close enough for your bodies to touch but you’re definitely aware of his presence now. “Or should I say Vivian?” 

“Seokjin,” you breathe out, turning to see the man in question stood in front of you looking just as handsome as you feared he would. Despite several hours of the party having passed, he doesn’t look anywhere near as dishevelled as most others are, but you assume that’s due to the scotch you recognise in the crystal-bottomed glass he’s holding. He’s always been one for sipping something stronger to keep his buzz rather than drinking to get wasted, and tonight is clearly no different. He’s not wearing a suit jacket, probably hung up somewhere to keep it safe, but he’s still wearing his dark blue waistcoat and the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up to expose his forearms. His hair has retained its style for the most part, only a few strands having fallen out of place across his forehead. 

“You look good,” he says, holding your gaze, and you know without asking that he doesn’t need to look down at your outfit because he’d have memorised it within the first half hour of seeing you. You consider your words carefully, knowing that this is much more than him simply coming to pay you a compliment.  

“I know,” you turn to grab your drink and make to leave, but his voice still has the power to stop you in your tracks. 

“You still wore it,” he states, and you’re surprised to see his eyes are softer than you expected despite the slight smirk on his lips. 

“Of course I did. It’s a good costume.”

“It is,” he agrees simply, looking down at his suit with a frown. “I just look like a rich asshole without my Vivian.”

“Nothing new, then,” you mutter into your cup and you’re surprised to hear him laugh.

“I guess so,” he says, and if you didn’t know him better you’d think he sounded sad. He takes a sip of his drink and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. The kitchen falls quiet between you. It’s awkward and heavy but neither of you make to leave. This is the closest you’ve knowingly been to him all evening and you’re torn between wanting to leave him in your wake and wanting to stay close to him. As much as he hurt you, you’re still drawn to him, still feel pulled towards him by the rope around your heart that neither of you ever severed. 

“What do you want, Seokjin?” you ask, wishing you were in between a bickering Taehyung and Namjoon right now instead of here with him. At least you know how everyone feels when you’re with them. 

Seokjin falters slightly at your question and your own nerves grow, a thickness in your throat that even your rum can’t cut through. Seokjin never falters. Something’s wrong.

“I just… I wanted to apologise,” he says, not quite meeting your eye, neck flushing red. You subtly take a sniff of your drink, making sure you haven’t accidentally slipped in something stronger, but the sweet cherry scent is exactly as it always is. 

Seokjin notices your shock and chuckles to himself, embarrassed, but he’s been going over what he wants to say to you for weeks and he’s not about to back out now. Steeling himself, he puts down his glass and turns to you, his expression sincere. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N-”

“For what?” you interrupt, curious whether he actually knows what he did wrong or if he’s just trying to butter you up. He doesn’t falter this time, as if he’s been expecting a third degree interrogation from you, but he doesn’t bristle either. The more you watch him and the way he accepts your sharp tone with resignation, the more you realise he is genuinely apologetic. It’s such a strange concept to you that you briefly wish he would go back to being an asshole to you just to feel a bit more familiar. 

“For everything,” he says, continuing before you can berate him for such a cop-out answer. “For never treating you properly, never treating you like you deserve to be treated.” He slips his hands in his pockets as he takes a few cautious steps towards you, keeping an eye on your reaction to make sure he doesn’t overstep. “I know I hurt you, when I told you I never promised I’d call you my girlfriend. I know I hurt you a lot of times.”

Hearing him say the words you’d wanted to hear for so long, actually admitting that he knew he’d hurt you and apologising for it, is enough to make your throat sting with the rising sensation of tears. You stare into your cup but you don’t see the cherries and ice cubes swimming in your rum: your attention is solely on him.

“I’m sorry I let you walk out of that party without telling you how I feel about you, about us.”

Your gaze snaps to him, feeling like all of the air is being squeezed out of your lungs. Seokjin never spoke about his feelings or spoke about the two of you as an ‘us’, only ever referring to you as two separate people who just happened to go to events together. 

“The last couple of weeks, I’ve… thought about you, a lot. I’ve really fucking missed you, Y/N,” he chokes out, closing his eyes tightly and you grip your cup. You’ve never heard him cry before. 

He looks up at you, eyes red, and you almost step towards him before you catch yourself. You’ve missed him, too, and not just for the way he leaves you weak in the knees the morning after. Despite his reluctance to put a label on your relationship, Seokjin was more domestic than he was perhaps capable of admitting. It had touched you when he’d learned your coffee order within a week, always had your favourite snacks stocked away in his penthouse kitchen and even bought you a small wardrobe’s worth of clothes. 

But it was the occasional evenings spent on his sofa that you remembered fondest, a bottle or two of red wine split between you while you watched TV together. He would always lay your legs across his lap, gently massaging down your calves while your chosen film or documentary played out in front of you until he was pressing circles into your feet with his thumbs. He always said he didn’t care for TV so he’d let you choose, but he’d be just as engrossed as you by the end of the night, insisting on one more episode before you dragged him to bed. It was those moments of intimacy that you missed, when he seemed like he could actually be your boyfriend if only he wasn’t so reluctant. 

You’re not sure if you can bring yourself to believe him, given how easily he threw it all away. 

“Sure, you did,” you roll your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your voice to mask the hurt you can’t swallow. “My phone’s barely stopped ringing.”

His gaze hardens, but a flash of hurt crosses his face. 

“I texted you,” he bites out. “You didn’t reply.”

“You asked me what I was doing for the holidays, Seokjin. You didn’t apologise, you didn’t say anything about what happened. You didn’t give me any reason to talk to you.” You put your cup down on the counter behind you, the temptation to throw it at him growing every second. 

“I didn’t know what else to say,” he says quietly. “I’m not used to…” he trails off, unsure how to phrase it. “I’m not used to being the one to fix things.” 

You laugh hollowly; you can’t help it. It’s bitter, the reminder that you were always the one to crawl back first, but it’s true. 

“It’s not nice, is it?” you ask, letting him see your own teary eyes as you look up at him. “Waiting for someone else to give you what you want.” His features fall and his shoulders drop, the meaning behind your words as clear as day: you waited for him to give you a relationship and he kept teasing you with it, pulling you along like a fool. 

“No,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not. But I’m ready, I think.” Seokjin takes one more step towards you, his hands still buried deep in his pockets, arms tense with the restraint it’s taking him not to reach out and touch you. 

“Ready?” you ask, head spinning, heart pounding. “Ready for what?”

“To give you what you want,” he says gently. “I’m ready to give you a relationship, if you still want one… still want me.”

You’ve waited months to hear him say those words but now that you’re hearing them you’re struggling to understand. Your eyes search his features and you see that he looks tired, like he hasn’t slept properly for a while. 

You’re conflicted. The disbelief of hearing those long-awaited words sits level on the scales of your emotions, balanced out by the sting of too many rejections in the past. You’re tired, too. Tired of waiting for him, of having your hopes raised by tender touches only to be dashed by the sharp words claiming you’re nothing more than his friend. You don’t want to fall for his words only for them to come back and cut you later on, but you also don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to at least try having everything you’ve ever wanted with him. 

It’s too big of a decision to make in one moment, even when you’re sober.

“I do,” you say hesitantly, careful with your expression. “I do still want you, but-” you put your hand out to stop him when he takes another step closer, hands withdrawing from his pockets to reach out for you. They hesitate in mid-air at the touch of your fingertips to his chest, fingers curling in on themselves. “But I can’t just say yes to this, not tonight. I need time. I need you to prove to me that I can trust you, and that you mean this, Seokjin.” 

His gaze softens and his hands slowly close over yours, holding your palm to his chest.

“I understand,” he says, hands holding yours tightly. “I’m willing to wait. I think it’s only fair, I’ve made you wait long enough.” 

“Too right,” you say, pushing him gently on the chest and his cheeky smirk falls into a grin. 

“Start the new year with me,” he says, gradually bringing you closer until he can press a kiss to your hair.

“Okay,” you whisper, wrapping your hands around his torso and relaxing into the planes of his chest. You’ve missed being held by him. “Let’s go outside.”

You retrieve your glasses and head out onto the balcony together hand in hand, taking the alcohol with you more to keep you warm than to keep any lingering buzz going. Namjoon smiles when you come up beside him, almost wrapping his arm around your shoulder when he catches sight of your hand entwined with Seokjin’s. His expression falls slightly but he recovers, meeting your gaze to silently ask if everything’s okay, and when you nod his smile returns, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. You know he’ll have questions and you’ll answer them in time but, for now, you’re happy to watch as colours explode in the sky above you all. 

If you’d like to read any more of my writings, please visit my masterlist  ♥

[joshslater]

Roomie 2.0 pt. 3

The third and final part of Roomie 2.0. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Chapter 3 - Josh

He couldn't stop himself from laughing when Mike pitched the idea to him. To try to find someone who could hypnotize Joe into more of a jock type, like them. Not too much of a change, but enough so he at least would enjoy watching football with them. Maybe join some beach volley or some hoops. He was missing out on so much friendship, activities, and life in general, Mike concluded. They would do him a solid.

If anyone else had asked him, he would have said no straight away. He knew that even small changes tend to amplify over time, like a mental butterfly effect. But Mike wasn't just anyone. Although they had only known each other for two years, once he had moved in as Mikes flat mate they had become like brothers. Mike didn't need the money. He had quite the opposite problem with too many rooms and not enough going on in them. "What good is money if you can't buy yourself friends?" he had joked. Now they didn't just share a flat and a curriculum, they pretty much shared everything.

"What's so funny?" "I've had similar thoughts about Joe, and I know a guy who can help."

Joe had moved in much later, only five months ago. They had both agreed that they could use one more person in the flat. They never used the dinky home gym anyway. Since they had time to chose tenant carefully they knew exactly what they wanted and who they ultimately got. Someone a bit more structured and focused on the academic side, to balance them out. It soon became apparent that they had over-corrected.

"I'll text him and see if he is up for BBQ."

Greg was busy that afternoon, but already next evening they sat on his balcony, breaking fire safety codes by grilling USDA Prime beef and corn on flimsy disposable grills. Mike had bought the meat, and Josh had carried beer from their beer fridge.

"I don't wan't him to stop being him. Well, perhaps a little. But I don't want him to become stupid or anything. Just look at us. We go to class, take our exams, work out, play sports, retake exams. I just want him to be a bit more like us." Mike concluded his pitch reprise.

"That's good and all. You can't really affect intelligence with hypnosis anyway, just direct it towards different things." Greg explained. "The big issue though isn't where you want him to be, but how to safely get him there in such a way that he decides to stay there. There needs to be some sort of tangible change. Something to keep him locked on to the suggested path." "Like what? Different clothes?" "That could work. It's best if he selects it himself, so he doesn't question it."

Josh jumped in "What about a new haircut? We could ask him if he would rather have my or Mike’s haircut, if he had to chose. Slip it into conversation somehow, like he is settling a dispute between the two of us." "Oh, that's perfect. Lots of work to make it believable, but if he buys it he's hooked. You can even have him make the decision days before you actually start the process."

"Hey, Greg. Where's the bathroom?" "Just through the living room and left." "Bring some beers from the fridge on the way back."

As soon as Mike went inside, Greg leaned in and asked him in theatrically hushed voice "You haven't told him yet!?" "I'll do it once we are well on our way with Joe." "I fucking told you to tell him." "And I will. I've just been afraid of what that could do to us."

Greg slumped back in his chair, considering Mike's answer for a few seconds, and emptied the last of his beer.

"It's uncanny though." "What is?" "It's not going to end up the same since the starting point is different, but he is doing to Joe, beat for beat, what you did to him."

[wild-moony-joonie]

Birthday Clubbing:

Author: Laura(me)

Warnings: Sexual references, kissing(more like making out), alcohol consumption.

Pairing(s): Sasuke/Naruto(Sasunaru).

Synopsis: Sasuke goes to a club and finds his Birthday surprise.

______

Today is July 23rd. My Birthday. Today I turn 21 years old, and I plan on getting completely wasted and most likely end up with a hangover tomorrow. But I know from a long past of drinking with my brother that getting drunk is enjoyable, but sometimes depressing. I pull up to a large city block in the middle of Konoha, that on this busy Saturday night, is jumping. Bright strobe lights come from the open doors, accompanied by a heavy bass and the smell of sweat, sex and liquor.

 I feel my excitement rise to a dangerous degree, as I wish to be swallowed by the large swaying masses, knowing my stomach will soon be full of cheap over priced liquor and greasy food. But if I'm getting real here, I can't really hold my alcohol. After one or two drinks I'm pretty tipsy, and after the first five or so of my filters shut off, and I end up doing random shit like jumping off of a bridge in the middle of a park, or driving my car on the opposite side of the road. Somehow, I've never gotten caught.

I've never found anyone I was attracted to, enough to take them home with me. At least... not that I know of. I chuckle lightly, sliding out of my black tinted jeep and begin to feel quite confident in my sleeveless dark indigo top that clings to my lean and muscular frame. I paired it with gray wash ripped jeans, small gold lobe hoops with a matching wristband, and black and gold combat boots. I walk towards the entrance of the booming club, and read the name of it painted on the side of the building in glow in the dark paint. I approach the entrance, allowing my ears to adjust to the sudden outburst of gyrating rap beats and techno coming from the very ghetto building. I make my way to the front, pay for my entry, and then head straight for the bar to get as tipsy as possible.

I order a margarita, sipping it while scanning the dance floor for possible dance partners. As my eyes rove over the possible options I spy a flash of blonde and orange. I instinctively focus on it, and like what I see. A short, somewhat petite, blonde boy is dancing on the dance floor in an orange loose tank top and a pair of tight leather pants. To top off his eccentric choice of color, he's wearing tons of rose gold bangle bracelets, at least a dozen on each wrist. His shoes are nothing exciting seeing as they're simple with nike kicks. I contemplate whether or not to approach the strangely adorable boy, who is obviously here illegally and at least a year my junior.

    I eventually decide to greet him, and chug the remaining half of my second margarita. I make my way over to his small, but bright, figure drowning in the pulsing heat of the crowd. I finally get to him and decide the best way to approach him is to ask him to dance and then let him take the lead. I didn't come here for sex, but I can't help but notice him. I walk towards him and place a hand gently on his shoulder, he turns quickly at this and I jerk my hand back, startled for a moment. I quickly remember why I'm here, and proceed to open my mouth to introduce myself and ask him to dance,

"Hey! I'm Sasuke," I whisper-shout as I lean in close to his ear, doing my best to keep a non-threatening distance, "Would you like to dance?" I do my best to smile invitingly at him, and he returns it without hesitating.

"I'm Naruto," He replies, also whisper shouting, but despite his strained efforts to get me to hear him, his voice is still warm and full of sunshine.

"Alright Sunshine, let's see how you do," I smirk, trying my best to goad him into giving me a dance worthwhile and I soon learn it was a mistake as his body starts moving. He's pressing his chest against mine, his nose brushing my chin, his left hand is on my hips and his right is tangled in my perpetual bedhead. I lean into his touch slipping a hand to his lower back, pressing his hips into mine placing my other hand at the nape of his neck. I begin to roll my hips experimentally, wondering how he'll react.

    He reacts surprisingly, he presses his lips to my neck and grinds harshly against my hips, creating a brutally slow rhythm that has us both gasping for air in this suffocating throng of people. We continue to grind slowly, in complete ignorance to the much faster song, and he begins to drag his lips up my neck to my chin and nibbles at my jaw. I release a small groan as the hand on my hip slips down to my inner thigh, his fingers trace small circles, as I teasingly slip my hand on his back under his shirt and begin to trace his spine. He grips my hair tighter and in response I tilt my head down, assuming it's what he wants, I quickly discover that I was right as he presses his lips to mine in a teasing passionate kiss. He swipes his tongue over my lips heatedly, and I respond with fervor, kissing him harder and in a more desperate fashion.

    We break the kiss gasping as the songs ends, and the DJ comes over the mike. I break my hold from him and smile warily. I'm not entirely sure when dancing went to making out, but I'm completely fine with it. He smiles a megawatt smile at me, and holds out his phone for me to type my number into. I grin back at him, happily taking his phone and tapping away at the little numbers on the screen.

[dcbicki]

Milevn + 7 + 45?

if we’re unmade when the stars fade // 1.4k words

prompt: raindrops on eyelashes + the creak of leather

The last thing she expects to see that night is a rain-soaked, sobbing seventeen-year-old boy stood on her front doorstep. But he’s there; her boyfriend with the unruly hair, her favorite person, her Mike Wheeler.

He hadn’t called beforehand, hadn’t let her know he was stopping by. But he’d showed up less than a minute ago, wet-through and sobbing and holding back more tears.

“Mike?”

Feet growing cold from the cool air outside, El quickly ushers him inside. She pulls on the sleeves of his coat to drag him in, internally cringing at the blistering cold of the material.

“Are you okay?” She asks, staring up at him with tears pooling in her own eyes. She gently grabs his face to inspect him for cuts or injuries, tilting his head from side to side for a moment. But the only traces of pain she finds are the drops of water falling freely from his eyelashes as his eyes scrunch up in agony, a whole new bout of tears escaping.

“Talk to me.”

(Hopper is out on a late call, and he won’t be back for several hours.)

(Mike is freezing.)

El brings her hands up his chest then, palms flat against the sticky dampness of this coat. When she reaches the top, she makes quick work of unzipping it. She pushes the jacket from his shoulders, slim wrists bent against his collarbones once the sleeves start to slide down his arms. But it stops midway down his frame, pooling around his elbows, and El has to shove it the rest of the way off in order to toss it aside. She throws it over the arm of the couch, wet seeping through into the old woolen blanket.

“Mike.”

She pushes up on her tiptoes to face him directly, but she’s still a couple of inches too short. So, she cups his left cheek in her hand and forcefully brings his head down to her level. She gazes up at him through her lashes, allowing him to absentmindedly rest his forehead against hers and use her for support. His tears cease, seemingly finding comfort in her embrace, and she can feel the sobs raking over his body with every breath. But the boy’s eyes are still shut tight, and he’s still breathing heavily through his nose with next to no sign of stopping.

The collar of his shirt is soaking wet, flush and darker than its usual green against the pale, goose-bumped skin of his neck, but it’s tucked in beneath his sweater and El quickly moves to loosen it. She pops open the first button, curling her fingers around the lapels of his collar to allow him more room to breathe.

The material slackens around the base of his neck, and El slips her hands down the back of his shirt to rest her hands flat against his skin, the warmth of her touch causing a gasp to escape past Mike’s lips. It’s the first real sound of his voice El has heard in minutes.

Never lifting her gaze from off of his face, El’s eyes fall onto his lips. They’re blueing and dry from the cold air outside, and there are raindrops (or teardrops; she can’t decide which, and she doesn’t want to know) resting on his chin.

The girl thoughtlessly presses her mouth against his lower face then, rose lips flush against his jaw. She casually kisses her way along his jawline, making sure to soak up the water drops as she goes, hands gripping his shoulders tight to steady them both.

“Tell me,” she says. She presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, eyes closing in agony at his suffering, “please?”

El feels his arms slowly creep around her body, hands moving from his sides to her lower back. Mike grips her tightly, almost painfully, long fingers digging into the softness of her pajama t-shirt. But then his arms slither around her waist and he pulls her into his front a second later; chest pressed against his, head nuzzling into the side of his neck as she mumbles soothing words to him.

“I had a dream,”

El blinks, settling on keeping her eyes closed as she asks, soft and low, “What kind of dream?” She whispers the words, voice muffled by the material of Mike’s shirt. She tugs on the neck of his sweater again, feeling his throat bob against her knuckles.

“About you,” he says. Mike lowers his gaze, but she’s thankful that at least his eyes are open now. They’re teary and tired, but they belong to the boy she loves and that’s enough for her. He inhales a sharp intake of air and slips his right hand up her back, up her t-shirt to smooth along her bare skin, “You were gone.”

The words are spoken so softly, so quietly that El would have a hard time hearing him if she weren’t already stood so close. He sounds so broken, so fragile and pure, that El isn’t quite sure how to comfort him.

The girl eventually nods her head, barely, lips parting as she struggles to find the right words; words that will calm him and reassure him of her love.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mike.” El sighs, and she rises up on her toes to clasp his face between both hands. Her eyes are blown wide, hazel and confident and honest as truth, “Not ever.”

He frowns, but his brows pull together in what El just knows is hopefulness. Mike licks his lips after a beat, staring down into her eyes. Then he starts, “But—”

Cutting him off with a simple flick of her wrist, El sweeps wet hair from his face. She pushes long, black locks back, smiling in admiration as the strands curl around his ear. Keeping her fingertips pressed against his high cheekbones, she says, “Even if I did,” a breath, “I would always come back.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” she nods, and her hands move from his face to the hem of his sweater. She pulls on the material, ringing it out with clenched fists and watching as drops of water land on Mike’s sneakers, “because you’re here.”

Shuffling closer along the wooden floor, El nudges Mike’s legs apart with a soft kick. She wiggles bare feet between his shoes, standing up on her tiptoes one final time—just enough so she can press her lips against his innocently. Eyes squeezing shut in concentration, El slips her hands beneath his sweater to draw it up his body, the thick wool bunching around her wrists as she waits for Mike to raise his arms and cooperate.

It only takes him a second, and then he’s breaking the kiss and peeling the sweater away himself. Staring straight down at her mouth, Mike’s nostrils flare as he asks, “El?” His hands make their way to her sides, higher than her waist.

She smiles up at him shyly, almost slyly, “yes?”

There’s a distinct sound of metal clinking, and Mike glances down to find two hands wrapped around the leather of his belt. He lowers his head to hers then, lashes fluttering against her forehead as he asks, voice quivering, “What are you doing?”

Blinking back hesitance, El shrugs, “Being here,” she tells him, doe-eyed as the tugs on both sides of his belt. The strap hangs openly around Mike’s waist, the leather creaking ever so slightly when El tugs, pulls, yanks on the material and wraps it around her wrists to usher him closer. “Let me.” She grabs one of Mike’s wrists then, resting a cold hand on the curve of her spine, his fingers pointing downward.

There are still teardrops (or raindrops; she can’t decide which, and she doesn’t want to know) on his cheeks, and El slowly pushes up and up until she can press her lips against his own, plump and rosier than they had been several minutes ago.

El sighs into the kiss, and she lets go of his jeans hoops to cups his face between her hands again, running her thumbs along his cheekbones just as Mike pulls away.

“You—You promise you’re okay?” Mike rasps, and there’s something in his voice that lets El know just how much he’s thinking of her. That, and the way he tightens his grip on her frame and allows her to just melt into him.

She smiles, nodding, “Promise.”

@stark @dustinhendrsn @fatechica @eleven-n-mike @mikewheeler @proud-princess-el-wheeler @el-and-hop

[brooklynislandgirl]

Ship meme: Beth and G.

All Hands || Accepting

who wakes up first in the morningShe wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing. The faintest whiff of cologne competes with the sound of freshly pressed linen. A fraction of a moment carved out of the heart of time that lingers between the still warm hands of sleep clinging to her skin and the taste of wine still lingering on her lips from the night before. This moment is weightless and without thought. It’s the one and only quiet moment of peace before reality comes crashing through. And part of her feels sad because she’s absolutely sure Garrett doesn’t have them.She senses his presence before she even opens her eyes, and he trails his fingers through her hair. The grin that comes in the wake of the gesture assures him that he hadn’t awakened her. “I took the liberty of ordering breakfast for you. Sasha or Mike will bring it up when it gets here. I’ve got meetings straight through til noon, an appointment with my PT, and I’m going to check on one of the guys that’s been missing meetings. Should be back before five, if your still here. We can grab dinner.  If not, just lock up, okay?”She makes an unintelligible sound.“Yeah, right back at you, Beth.”

who’s the first to fall asleep at nightDinner was casual, and uncharacteristic. Pizza for him and a large Greek salad for her because he doesn’t think one slice with nothing but cheese is good or healthy for her. She can stand to put a little meat on her bones, and he half wonders if maybe her husband doesn’t worry the way he does that he’ll blink and she’ll wither away. Of course she only laughs and pushes at his shoulder and he grins around the slice he’s biting at. Eventually he starts stealing things from her bowl; a tomato here. A chunk of feta there. A sliver of red onion to go with the sausage and pepperoni. Doesn’t say a word when she snags a piece of the next slice, examining the thin red circle of meat like it belonged in one of her petri dishes.It isn’t til hours later, well after they’ve finished and watch an old black and white movie on television that he’s laying on his side, head in her lap, small fingers carding through his hair that he asks.“When did you start hating meat?”She’s quiet for a long time. And he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.“One time, the Admiral was having a dinner party. Very formal kind of affair and I was sitting there at the table in a little white dress, blue ribbon around the waist, tights, white patent leather shoes, the whole works. We were served something that was breaded and covered in sauce and cheese and I didn’t know what it was. My brother told me it was veal. I still didn’t know what it was. I was three bits in and feeling a little queasy and then he leaned over and explained what veal was. I asked the Admiral if I could be excused and he refused. Ended up getting sick at the table. Kinda was put off meat from that moment on.”Garrett manages to fall asleep with the image of a very much smaller Beth in that dress stuck in his head and misses the rest of her story. And maybe that’s for the best really.

what they playfully tease each other over“Oh, big scary Marine! Getting his backside kicked by a boy only half his size. C’mon. You can do better!”She’s talking trash but she’s keeping a careful eye on him. The wrong move and...and she doesn’t want to think about it. There’s sweat darkening the grey muscle shirt as he bounces the ball, grips it between his fingertips and goes to fake the kid out. Santos falls for it and watches the ball sail upward in an arc, and through the hoop, net swishing. “Cheater!” the kid smirks and trots back.“Not cheating, you just weren’t paying attention. Just because your opponent is bigger than you doesn’t mean you can’t outpace him if you watch carefully. Isn’t that right, Beth?”She glances up from her knitting needles in time to catch a dark and sultry look. Suddenly he’s not talking about basketball any more. The blush and speechlessness give him his answer.Thankfully, the teenager misses the subtext.

what they do when the other’s having a bad dayShe can see it in his face before he even fully makes it in through her clinic doors and both jaw and stomach tighten. She doesn’t smell infection from the drainage hole she’s left open but she still doesn’t like it. Without a word she takes him by the hand and leads him back into one of the exam wounds.“You came...all the way down here, just to have me look at this?”“I trust you.”“Garrett-”“What? I needed to get out of the city for a while. My back’s been killing me, this-”“Looks infected.”“That too. And I just...Look, if you don’t want to treat it, I’m sure I can find another doc in town, but I thought it might be nice to see you, check in on my nephew. Maybe stay for Mardi Gras.”They stand maybe too close, one looking down and the other looking up. It’s more than wounds old and newer, that much she can see on his face. It the lines around his mouth, the bags under his eyes. She puts a hand on his hip, walks him toward the exam table. As she pulls on her gloves and he takes his shirt off. “So, what exactly happened?” she asks, tenderly probing the front of his shoulder.“Charlotte came by the office....”

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments“I waited!”“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little...hard? I mean it’s not like I’m not calling now.”“I don’t care! YOU promised, G. YOU PROMISED.”He doesn’t know how such a small person can be so loud but he holds the cell away from his ear but she’s on a tear. He can only assume that her husband is out of the house or has gone deaf by now, and all it’s really doing is giving Garrett a headache. He waits until he can’t hear her any more and sighs. “I said I was sorry, it just slipped my mind. And I figured you’d understand.”Yep, understood enough to have hung up on his call. A thumb and forefinger come up to the bridge of his nose and pinch it tightly. Four breaths later, he’s calling his new PA. He’ll scour the City for lei flower...which he learned was also called plumeria. Maybe wax flower, maybe hibiscus. Orchids too, hot house grown if need be. Pay to have them shipped out overnight. G doesn’t often express himself in words, but he knows how to apologise through flowers.It’ll be weeks before she has the courtesy to apologise for herself. He doesn’t hold his breath, waiting.

which one’s more ticklish“...I can explain.”One hand is down on the ground beside Beth’s head. The other is slowing having assaulted the no-man’s-land between the bottom of her ribs and the flare of her hip. Her legs are scissored around the tops of his thighs. Their hair is a mess. There’s sweat gathered along his spine and in the hollow of her chest. Both his dark eyes and Beth’s stare up out of red faces as Riley slowly begins to fold his arms across his chest, his mouth twisted into a murderous grimace.“I’m waiting.”There’s a moment where Beth throws him under the bus and says nothing.“She’s....ticklish.”Riley shakes his head and starts to saunter toward the hot mess on Garrett’s floor.

their favourite rainy day activitiesGarrett’s watching a documentary that she is only half aware of, slouched on his end of the couch. A cup of coffee within reach, a little too Irish for her taste but it’s warm and chases feelings away. Her feet are in his lap because the cradle of his thighs are warm, and it’s touching without having to be any closer and she’s drowsily knitting something who’s pattern isn’t quite clear yet.It’s only a moment later that her hands still and her eyes widen and she becomes transfixed on the screen; not anything that was said because most of what they are saying is too fast and drownt out. No, it’s the image of the blue-painted plane, with beautiful wings.“Wha’...is...dat?” The whisper is full of wonder and she forgets English to a point.Garrett half smiles and glances over at her even if she can’t see him at all. “The F4U Corsair. One of the best Marine fighter planes in its day. Mostly used in the Pacific Theatre in and around the Solomons during World War Two. Beautiful isn’t she? This is about the VMF-214 unit. A.k.a the Black Sheep Squadron. Their commander, Greg Boyington used to choose the worst repaired Corsair so that his men wouldn’t have to chance it.”Garrett misses entirely the look she gives him.

how they surprise each otherThe ambushes become less tactical. Ever since the day she had introduced him to Tabby, she doesn’t jump him any more. Doesn’t really even intrude on his day to day affairs the way she used to. Instead, she has a new bottle of wine couriered over. Or a book she thinks he’ll find interesting. Emails him mp3s of some new Jazz band she found in the Quarter, or Indie sensation out of the Bronx.Month by month, she gets statements about how the group Garrett and Chester head up contributes to the clinic’s taxes and up-keep. Between them and Zarek, she’s finally operating in the black. Able to branch out a little, offer different services to the growing community.But the biggest surprise was when she was shutting down her second clinic, the one here at home, having assured Z she could make it back to the cabin without worrying about the rain. She might be cut off from one of her Spheres, but she still had complete command of the others.She went room by room in the old house, turning off lights and checking windows. She was in the foyer gathering up her scarf when the glass of the door took on a human shaped shadow as the lightning struck. She started to open it, a sweet smile on her face. “I told you, Kealoha, I could-oh. G. What...what are you doing here?”“I wanted coffee.”“In...N’orleans?”“Yeah. I hear they make it with chicory.”

their most sickening shows of public affectionHe slants a look over her shoulder that says this is not a good idea. It says he’s not sure he’s willing or ready for it.She grins. It’s just a tango. And just because her husband is watching, doesn’t really mean Garrett’s actually going to loose a limb.It’s for a good cause, after all.And while the midnight gaze behind her might put the willies in his water, it makes her feel like the most feminine and delicately priceless thing in the room.

[beyond4lines]

6 Coaches UCLA Are Looking At

Earlier this month Steve Alford was fired after five years being the head coach at UCLA. With the lack of underwhelming recruiting classes and underperforming teams, the marriage between Alford and UCLA was bound to fail. Now the coaching search begins for everybody involved from the athletic director and boosters to alumni who want what is best for the program. As a fan here are my six coaches that UCLA will or should consider for the job.

1.Fred Hoiberg: Unattached

The former Iowa State and recently fired Chicago Bulls coach has been a name floating around since the coaching job has opened up. From an A.D. and booster point of view, he’s a “big name” get and has some big-time conference experience under his belt. When Hoiberg made the jump to the NBA in 2015 to the Chicago Bulls he automatically looked out of his depth, with the tension between him and veteran players. His tenure at the job was difficult which led to his departure. What UCLA should look at his time at Iowa State where he took the Cyclones to the NCAA tournament 4 out 5 times at the helm. He recorded .673 win percentage at Iowa State which is impressive because of the status of the program and winning in a very tuff conference like the Big 12. With evidence of his success, it should be apparent that he is good at recruitment and player development at a college level as he recruited non-NBA players and helped make them perform to be a mid-tier BIG 12 team.

Conclusion on Hoiberg: A negative on Hoiberg is that he did like to dip in the transfer market as UCLA is not known for doing that so the board may not be fond of that, but that could’ve been the product of players just not wanting to go there and Hoiberg not having resources to bring top players. The UCLA coaching job could be a new challenge for him and an opportunity to lick his wounds and gain some confidence by going back into the college ranks. As I am writing this he is up for the running for the General Manager or Head Coaching job for the Minnesota Timberwolves left by former Bulls coach Tom Thibodeau, so we’ll see how that turns out.

2.Gregg Marshall: Wichita State

The current Wichita State Head coach was an NABC and Naismith coach of the year in 2014. Marshall is a good recruiter for a small program like Wichita State and made a great outcome by doing well against top competition in the tournament. At Wichita State, he has a .742 win percentage and has had tremendous runs in the NCAA tournament with an appearance in the Final Four in the 2012-2013 season. The production of his team has slowed down recently (6-4) in 2019 and (25-8) 17-19 and lost in the first round last year, because of this it could be a good opportunity for UCLA to push for him because I feel he might have plateaued at Wichita.

Conclusion on Marshall: He has been at Wichita Stare for over 10 years (07-08) to present. He has turned down major offers before so is he willing to make the jump. One of the negatives is that he has only coached in small conferences up until recently which now Wichita competes in the AAC, so can he recruit and compete in a highly competitive Pac 12.

3. Bruce Pearl: Auburn University

The Current Auburn Coach knows how to find talent and mold them into productive college players. When he was at the University of Milwaukee he went to two NCAA tournaments and went to the sweet 16 in the 04-05 season. At Tennessee he proved to be a great recruiter as he went to six straight tournaments and with an appearance in the elite eight in the 09-10 season, putting a football conference on the map since prime Kentucky days.  Pearl brings good offense and hardnosed defense to his teams and UCLA need that as I feel UCLA might need a culture change and probably more so of the court than on it.

Conclusion on Pearl:

The negatives on hiring Pearl are that he had just gotten off of recruiting violations stemming from a 2010-2011 NCAA Investigation. Back in the  1990’s UCLA have had violations against them when Jim Harrick was the coach. Will UCLA want the possibility to go through that again?  Me personally don’t think so. If the board and the boosters can look past that, Pearl has just gotten Auburn to a place Auburn hired him for and that is to win games and compete against Kentucky. If UCLA came calling would he dip without knowing how good Auburn can be, as he did not get a chance to see what could’ve been at Tennessee because of the violations.

4.Eric Musselman: University of Nevada

The Nevada coach is becoming a hot commodity this year as his team is 14-1. A former NBA coach (most recent job was Sacramento Kings (06-07)) and also coached in the G-League from 2010 to 2012. Musselman has been on the west coast before Nevada job, more specifically is familiar with the  Pac 12 with jobs being an assistant and later associate head coach at Arizona State. His experience in the NBA might be a good balance of hard-nosed coach but the caretaker of young men. Musselman is known for player development with the likes of Gerald Green and Jeremy Lin when Musselman was coaching in the G-League to former NBA player Kevin Martin during Musselman's time with the Sacramento Kings. From an A.D. point of view that is a great sign that he can recruit but also mold players into productive pieces to help the team but to improve their games. during the 13-14 season, he was a candidate for fellow PAC 12 schools like CAL and Oregon State. Musselman does have International coaching experience by coaching the Dominican Republic and Leading Venezuela to the 2012 summer Olympics. From my point of view, I think his connections internationally can open recruiting pipelines for foreign players to the program, similar to Mark Phew at Gonzaga.

Conclusion on Musselman:

As he is a good coach, maybe a negative is that he has only coached division one hoops for one school for a short period of time (4 years) at a smaller school with not much expectation in a mid-major conference (The Mountain West); the people making the decisions may  ponder if he can translate the same success at UCLA. Another caveat is if an NBA team offered him a position will he choose the bruins or give it another go at the next level.

5.Tony Bennett: University of Virginia

Tony Bennett is potentially a home run pick. He knows how to recruit, he can change the mentality of how the program and get guys who want to stay long term instead using the program as a stop gap for the NBA. I think he can have a balance of one and done players and veterans and can implement a philosophy that can help the program. I know most people don’t like that his Virginia teams have low scoring games but from a fundamental standpoint, they are very productive and effective. Overall he gets it done with the players he has in a very deep ACC, which means his players are straight ballers and if UCLA wants him and can get him they can expect the same. He is familiar with the PAC 12 as he coached Washington State from 06-09. If you look up NBA players that he coached is shows he has a good eye for talent and has a knack for player development for example 2017 NBA rookie of the year Malcolm Brogdon and 3 time NBA champion Klay Thompson.

Conclusion on Bennett:

I believe he has a basketball and personal philosophy comparable to the great John Wooden. I also recognize how players admire him and respect him and he does the same as he sees them as young men and in turn will run through a wall for him and each other and every year Virginia has a great team. A negative about Bennett is not him as a coach but more so would he want to leave UofV as he has a good thing going in a better conference currently in the ACC compared to the PAC 12. Also can or will UCLA buy him out of his contract.

6.Earl Watson: Unattached

There have been rumors of him wanting the job and many Alums and former players would like to see him on the sidelines. As a former player, he knows the culture which is a plus as he would already know the expectations of what comes with the job. He is young so he can relate to players, he has coached the Phoenix Suns team that was one of the youngest in the NBA. He might be a good recruiter because of his status as a former UCLA and NBA player. A possible negative is that he does not have much coaching experience let alone productive coaching experience but someone has to take into account that the Suns organization is dysfunctional so Watson didn’t get a proper chance as he only had a year and a half on the job.

Conclusion on Watson:

Wouldn’t be a bad hire but potentially a great hire if the A.D., boosters and the board are patient with the process with Watson. Take Villanova and Jay Wright, for example, they have a rich basketball history like UCLA but when Wright started there were ups and downs and now they have 2 national championships in 4 years with Wright being almost twenty years on the job. I believe Watson is given the time can be influential in the process of bringing the program back to prominence; but if not UCLA should just avoid him.

Honorable Mentions:

Mike Brey: Notre Dame

•    Rumors of UCLA wanting him

•    I don’t think he will leave after being at Notre Dame for almost 20 years.

Rick Pitino: Unattached

•    Big name “great recruiter” but ……. NO!

 Tyus Edney: UCLA assistant

•    Like Watson is a former player, won a national championship for the Bruins in 1995.

•    Director of men’s basketball operation so has been in the creation of the program since 2010.

•    Again if hired as a head coach he will need patience from the upstairs to be successful.