#i love him . i love him. christ i love him. god.

[theriu]

I have grace on my mind tonight. Specifically, how misunderstood it is, and how that misunderstanding muddies up conversation with others about Jesus.

Something I learned some years ago, as I got to know some excellent LDS friends, is that in the LDS belief system, grace is seen kind of like a ladder. Jesus died for us to give us that ladder, and we have to climb our way up it. Basically, your own works, your own goodness, is still required for you to get the ultimate reward from God.

And honestly, I know a lot of Christians believe something like this, too. That, sure, Jesus saved us by His grace, but you still have to be GOOD ENOUGH to "earn" salvation.

But the truth is that the actual Grace Jesus taught isn't like that at all. Grace isn't like a ladder extended down to you - grace is Jesus's own hand. He's reaching it down to us, offering it, asking us to grab hold. We have to choose to take it - we have to grasp that hand (accept His forgiveness, accept His Kingship, accept that he is not A god or A son of God but GOD HIMSELF, who paid the price of death that our sins deserve).

But when you grab His hand, You know what He does?

He grabs you back. He lifts you out of the muck and mire. HE does all the work. He holds you TIGHT. NOTHING can wrest you from His grip.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39)

If it were at all possible for a human to work their way to God, to earn salvation, Jesus would not have had to sacrifice Himself for us. He didn't humble himself by becoming a human, live a sinless life, and die a gruesome, unjust death so we would keep killing ourselves trying to reach perfection on our own. No good deed can cancel out a sin, just like giving money to charity can't undo a murder. Only when someone pays the price for sin can it be absolved - and the price for sin is death. By being fully man yet fully God, by living a sinless life that did not earn the death penalty, Jesus was able to pay the price FOR us.

We still need to repent - we need to turn away from our sin, admit we need help, admit we need forgiveness and mercy (the inverse of grace, where we DON'T recieve the consequences we DO deserve). And when we do accept Jesus, HE helps us change and become better versions of ourselves. The good works are an outcome of salvation, not the payment for it. We do have to put effort in because our bodies and minds still struggle with sinful habits, but He is helping us, and the intent is to grow closer to and more like Him - not to earn His love.

When it comes to salvation, Jesus did all the work already. Please grab His hand and hold on tight - it will likely be a bumpy ride through this life. But I promise you, He won't let go once you put your hand in His.

(If anyone would like prayer or to ask a question, I'm open. Praying you have a blessed night, wherever you are.)

[spinecouture]

sex with daryl? 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ nsfw

his movements need work, sloppy and uncoordinated. he’d rut against you and bite back whines, chewing his lip till he bled. he’d stop every few seconds, cock pulsing, angry and aching for release. but he couldn’t, not yet.

if you’re on top, he is screwed. your bouncing hips drive him crazy, making his head spin. his teeth are clenched, breaths uneven and heavy, hands gripping your waist so tight it could bruise.

he’d get so close, just for you to stop moving. he’d let out a strangled growl of defiance, pathetically pushing his hips up into yours, fucking himself on your pretty hole.

“you’re gonna cum if you don’t stop,” you’d warn him, seeing how wrecked he was.

tears prick his eyes as he cums, unable to help but push you down harder as he stuffs you full. and it’s a lot—the man’s been deprived of ejaculation for years. streams of blissful tears trickle down his cheeks, panting and heaving as he comes down from his high.

“told ya,” you’d chuckle, kissing his forehead as he whimpered.

but you’re not satisfied now, are you? because he came so quick, you just need a little more. “c’mon, angel, one more,” you’d coo, rolling your hips despite his load dripping down onto his stomach. “jus’ one more, baby, you can do it.”

daryl’s gasping and twitching, head thrashing as he tries to stop you from moving again. his limbs feel like jelly, however, and don’t give him enough push to force you off. “christ, please, don’–“

he’s cut off by you lifting your hips, before slamming them back down. he lets out something that can only be described as a cry, head thrown back into the pillows.

“shhhh,” you purr, bouncing gently. “you can take it.”

daryl shakes his head, grasping at the sheets. he’s losing his mind, so overstimulated he could die.

“can’t… can’t…”

“you can,” you assure him.

that’s when he falls apart. god, this man is a whimperer. he whines and juts his hips up into you like he can’t help it. his dick is only half hard, twitching and pulsing from overstimulation. his hands cover his face, face red hot.

“please,” he’d beg, helpless. “please, baby, stop–“

god, he feels close all over again, feeling your hips and ass jiggling in his lap. his thighs would tremble; he’s never been like this before.

“gonna cum again?” your taunting tone drives him up the wall.

a strangled whine later, he’s cumming again, panting and wheezing. his hips sputter forward, and you keep bouncing. he’s clawing your back and growling into the crook of your neck, pathetic. “christ, fuck, i’m… i can’t…”

“you’re so good,” you whisper in his ear, stroking his hair as you fucked him through his orgasm. “fillin’ me so good, baby. you’re lovely.”

he wants to argue, to snap at you for letting this happen. he doesn’t know how else to respond to such praise. he’s a wreck, close to tears from pleasure. his cock has a thick layer of lust, dripping as you finally give him a moment to catch his breath.

“i feel like i got… hit by a bus,” daryl blurts after a long moment.

“is that good?”

“hell yeah.”

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s finding it hard to resist you. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

four;

You had only one partner in your entire life—and Christ knew how awfully that ended. Still, each relationship taught you the same lesson: crying in front of them, especially too quickly, was as cruel as a death sentence.

But here you were, eyes glossy as you fought to suppress every awful, hopeless feeling swelling in your chest, the credits of The Notebook rolling on the screen.

Did that love even exist? Better yet, would you ever find it?

You couldn’t stop the quiver in your pretty, pink lips.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Hey,” Clark called, his laugh breathy, and your shoulders tensed.

You didn’t want to rush this, or push anything further. You weren’t entirely convinced he wasn’t hiding something underneath that perfect façade.

But Clark hadn’t hurt you when he brought you to his apartment. He hadn’t hovered over you when you sat on his dark emerald couch. Quite the opposite, in fact—he’d given you space, letting you curl up in the corner with a blanket, sitting a cushion away to make sure you felt comfortable.

Funnily enough, your mind wandered to how his body had felt in the bookshop just hours before, swaying so close to yours.

Christ…

“I’m fine.” You laughed at yourself, shaking your head, a sniffle escaping as your eyes blinked, letting two tears fall. Clark adjusted his glasses with his wrist, grabbing a tissue from his abstract glass table and offering it to you. You accepted it gratefully.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed, his voice a deep, soothing balm for the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. “I’ve cried at this film too.”

He was lying, but his words made you laugh, and that was enough for him. He grinned as you wiped your tears away.

“Are you lying to me?” Your watery doe eyes were too pretty a sight—and though Clark prided himself on being a strong man, he grew weak under your gaze.

“Yes,” he admitted, and after a long pause, you both erupted into a fit of laughter—breathless and wiping your eyes when it ended.

Clark sighed long and deep, leaning back against the cushions, gazing lazily at you with one arm resting along the back of the couch, his fingers grazing your shoulder.

“God, you’re pretty.” The words slipped out like a breath, and that ever-present pinch returned to his brows when he realized what he’d said. But when you flushed a soft pink and brought your shy gaze to meet his, he made no effort to take the words back.

A comfortable silence settled between you both. You peered at him through watery lashes, and he gazed at you with a soft smile, as though he was memorizing the delicate features of your face.

“Clark,” you started, and he hummed in response, too busy counting the sparse freckles on your face, tracing constellations in their scattered stars.

“Why’d you ask me out on a date?”

Maybe it was the wine, the gentle breeze flowing through the window, or the way he looked at you—as if he’d known you for a thousand lifetimes. Whatever it was, you couldn’t suppress the question from slipping past your lips.

He shifted, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he considered your words.

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s interested me,” he said plainly, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. Your curious mind didn’t think that was enough—but before you could push for more, you held back the urge.

He turned his head to you slowly, tilting it with a playful glint.

“Why’d you say yes?” he asked, grinning lazily.

You found yourself flushing pink again as you considered your answer.

Because you look like Adonis.

Because I’d be an idiot to say no.

Because I need to know if you’re a serial killer or not.

“Because you read books.”

Oof.

You winced as the words left your mouth, watching his brows furrow and the grin slowly fade from his lips. You felt the urge to crawl into a hole, but instead, you scooted closer on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you.

“I’m awful with words,” you admitted, voice small.

Clark recovered quickly, masking his brief disappointment with another lazy grin. “But you’re pretty,” he repeated, his gaze softening as he leaned closer to you.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Your gazes locked, pulling you both closer like magnets.

And then, in a blink, he was there. One arm on your hip, just like earlier. The other gripped the couch as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to his self-control.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispered.

And though the parts of you scarred by past trauma screamed for you to take it slow, to hold back—

Well.

Fuck it.

You nodded once, and his lips were on yours—soft, slow, and tentative.

One peck, and he pulled back, scanning your eyes for any trace of regret or hesitation. When he found none, he dove in again. Only this time, his glasses bumped your nose.

You winced, and his eyes widened. But then you broke into an amused smile. He mirrored you, a ghost of a laugh playing on his lips as he removed his too-big glasses and set them aside.

“Let me kiss it better, baby,” he whispered, and God, you melted.

Baby.

In that moment, you knew. Even if he eventually broke your heart or turned cruel, you’d still long to hear that word fall from his lips.

Oh, but slowly, he leaned forward again and pressed a soft kiss to where his glasses had bumped your nose. Then another to your cheek, and another, then your eyelids, your chin, your forehead—exploring you, savoring you. He hovered just shy of your lips, his arms warming your skin, his fingers finding a home cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against the apples of them.

“I want to keep kissing you,” he whispered, his voice strained, deeper now. You interrupted him, unknowingly.

“So do it, Clark.”

He inhaled sharply, a strained grin playing at the corners of his lips.

If he were a lesser man…

“If I keep kissing you,” he admitted, his voice low and heated, “I’m going to have a hard time stopping.”

And you swayed in your seat, body humming with anticipation. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, each one igniting the fire inside you, while your eyes dropped downward.

And then you saw it.

A bulge—strained but undeniable—aching to be released. To be touched.

A very big, demanding bulge.

Maybe his kisses were meant to distract you from it. Or maybe he wanted your innocent little eyes to fall upon it.

Unbeknownst to you, it had started to ache the moment he inhaled your intoxicating scent in the bookshop. One kiss, and it had been pulsing.

You gulped, wide-eyed as his kisses moved to your temples, his lashes tickling your skin.

Maybe it was the way he called you baby, or maybe it was curiosity… or maybe, just maybe, you felt as though you owed him something.

Yes, that was it.

He’d been so kind to you. Wasn’t this your obligation?

It’s certainly what your ex used to believe…

You winced as your shaky hand reached for his denim, slowly grazing the firm bulge, your fingers testing the limits of its tightness.

He tensed, his grip on your face tightening as he leaned back a fraction. Awe glazed your expression as you watched him close his eyes, jaw tight and lips pursed. A guttural moan escaped him, shaking both his chest and yours.

You had to keep going, if only to hear that delectable sound again.

Slowly, your fingers found the zipper, inching lower and lower—until his hand snapped down to capture your wrist.

Mortification spread across your cheeks like wisteria vines.

He stopped you, holding your wrist for a moment, catching his breath before his eyes fluttered open again, scanning your face.

A slow, lazy kiss pressed to your wrist, then two more to your reddened cheeks.

“You had wine,” he whispered against your neck, dipping his head into the crook and licking lazily at your pulse.

He hadn’t let go of your hand—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust himself.

His words took a moment to make sense in your foggy mind, but when they did, relief flooded your tense body. You relaxed against him.

He did want you— he just didn’t want you buzzing from wine.

He wanted you whole, complete, present.

You shivered as he traced his tongue from your throat to the soft place beneath your ear, pressing a final kiss there before pulling back.

His face had changed now.

Gone was the gentle, bookish man who’d kindled a fire both for and in you and let you ramble about books. No, this Clark was different—hungry, staring at the finest ambrosia before him.

Ready to pounce.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, and you realized then you'd been staring at his lips.

You licked your own.

"I'm okay, Clark."

He nodded, and in a swift motion, you were seated in his lap, his bulge pressing against your plump bum. The clothing between you only deepened the pulsing ache.

"You just bite me if I cross a line, okay?" You giggled softly at that, and he only nibbled your ear in response, wrapping two strong arms around you and settling back against the couch.

You had been the most fun he'd had in a while—and damn if he wasn't already dreading the moment when you'd part.

"Can I take you home tonight?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a new intensity that made your breath catch. His hands were gentle on your waist, but the tension in his grip told you that he wasn’t quite as calm as he appeared.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts and even stronger feelings. You’d never felt so simultaneously vulnerable and desired. There was something about him—something in the way he treated you with patience and respect—that made your guard slip, just a little. And yet, the fear of getting too close, too quickly, still lurked in the back of your mind.

You swallowed hard, trying to push past the anxiety. This isn’t the same as before, you reminded yourself. It doesn’t have to be.

“I think I’d like that,” you said finally, your voice shaky but sincere. You could feel his grip tighten slightly, as though he was holding his breath.

“Are you sure?” He searched your face, wanting to be absolutely certain that you weren’t just saying yes out of some sense of obligation or fear of disappointing him.

You nodded, and a small smile played at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

The air between you two shifted, as if the space around you had contracted and expanded all at once, drawing you closer to him. Clark’s eyes softened, and his smile was tender, almost reverent, as he kissed your forehead once more.

“Okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. “C’mon pretty girl.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You took it, allowing him to help you up from the couch, and together, you made your way to the cherrywood door. As you walked out into January’s chill, you found yourself unsurprised when he draped his coat over your shoulders.

As you climbed into the truck, Clark reached over to start the engine, but before he did, he turned to look at you once more, his gaze soft and searching.

“I want you to know ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “this isn’t just a pass of time for me or my pleasure. You’re pretty, and you’re incredibly tempting… but I don’t expect a thing from you. That’s not the man I am.”

He could be lying. As your ex had, as many others had before. Christ, you’d just met him a few weeks ago. Were you to believe his words were truly more than just a ploy to get you comfortable?

One stolen glance into his blue-gray gaze though, and you just knew that could not be true.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of relief and something else—something deeper, something unfamiliar but present. You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his hand as he reached for the gear shift.

“I’m not like that either,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “But I think you know that.”

He grinned, not needing to say more words as the tension eased from his shoulders and he shifted the car into drive. As you pulled away from the apartment building and into the quiet streets, you weighed each syllable of his words with scrutiny. You thought yourself to be a fool for considering them honest.

But that was okay.

Clark Kent was a man more than determined to prove your pretty little mind wrong…

[frnkiebby]

yippie!

yyyeeeesssssss more franks!~🎃

[stoopidpigeonxx]

How do you think the mouthwashing men (The tuplar crew but just the men) would react to their s/o giving them morning head 😏

OHOHOOOOOOO!! I like the way you think nonnie 😏

NSFW!!!

Curly

-hes probably used to it, because its hard not to be freaky for him. -It catches him off guard, ESPECIALLY if he's still really sleepy. -His hand probably automatically clings to your hair. Its a reflex. -Lazy hip thrusting into your mouth.... ngh -groaning and whining praise to you, although hes mostly mumbling bc, its like 6:00 in the morning.. -Loud groan/cry thing when he comes, and he just.. collapses. Poor guy. -"Hff.. what a fuckin' wake up call.. I think I'm gonna skip breakfast. I know what I want to eat." -eats you out for a couple hours then y'all shower together. its cheesy and cute.

Jimmy

-bro is a dead sleeper. -you'd have to physically shake him awake. -but of course he's gonna notice his dick getting sucked. -at first is shocked, like 'wtf are you doing', adrenaline and all. -but upon realizing its you and feeling your lips around his cock, he relaxes. -gives you a few pats on the head. Other than that, lets you do your thing. -hes still gotta have some control, though, so he grabs your chin to make you swallow. -"Christ, doll.. if you wanted my cock so bad you coulda asked." -man cums and then passes back out. -Doesn't offer to return the favor unless you remind him.

Swansea

-i don't know how you could suck him off when he snores like a fucking beast, but hey, I don't judge. -takes him a little bit to wake up, but when he does, its a pleasant surprise. -tries to question it but just kinda... lets you do it. -may pat your head when he's feeling really good. -takes him a while, but hey. That's fine. -will scoop you up afterwards for much-needed love.

Daisuke

-holy shit, he might bust. -hes a light sleeper, so the instant your tongue hits his clit he's awake. -(trans daisuke, y'all.) -you have to physically hold his legs apart from how much he's arching. -bro is weeping. -went from 'augh mimimi' to 'god yes don't stop please I'm gonna cum.' -Whiny boy!! -after he comes (which isn't long) he'll lay on your chest and yaps for an hour.

[cafem3wcuryy]

౨ৎ ━━━ HURT

req from anon: I always see oikawa x reader and the reader is almost always slapping the poor boy 😭 imagine oikawa flinches as the reader does it too much or his exgirlfriens did it a lot and reader comforts him or maybe he break down 🤷🏽‍♀️🫠

━ character: oikawa tooru

━ sum: when a simple gesture can reveal so much about a person.

━ tw: mentions of violence

lowercase intended

m.list

it was another lazy day for you and tooru. tooru didn't have anything planned for today nor did he have anything planned for yesterday, leaving the two of you to finally be able to spend time with one another. you guys didn't have anything planned for the day due to tooru's request for the two of you stay in the comfort of your shared home.

it was almost nine pm, and the two of you were watching a romance movie. tooru had been fighting off his exhaustion, and every once in a while, you would catch him dozing off. smiling to yourself, you shook your head, deciding to let him doze off as you continued to watch the movie.

once the movie had finally ended, you looked over to your sleeping boyfriend who was sat back, with his fist holding up his head. shaking your head, questioning how he is able to sleep in such uncomfortable positions, you got up, standing in front of him.

softly shaking his body, he stirs, eyes slowly opening. as he began to gain consciousness, you stretched your arms out in front of you.

"holy-!" tooru's voice rose slightly in shock, as he put his arms out in front of him, his hands protecting his face.

jumping in place, you quickly turned around, thinking he flinched at something that was behind you. seeing nothing behind you, you looked at your boyfriend in disbelief.

"are you okay?" you asked him, in which he nods his head, his eyes slightly wide and his breath slightly uneven.

"i thought you were about to hit me." tooru responds, his voice slightly groggy. he sat up, running his hands over his face.

"what? tooru, why would i hit you?" you questioned him, eyes soft.

shaking his head, he stands up, kissing the top of your head. "sorry, i know you wouldn't. it was a reflex."

"did your ex-girlfriends hit you a lot or something?" you asked, looking up at him, with a frown.

"yes and no?" his tone unsure. "well i got hit a lot when i would fall asleep and they would get mad."

"jesus christ, tooru." you shook your head, softly tugging his arm to your shared bedroom as he followed. "thank god you aren't with them anymore. poor baby, i wouldn't dare hit you because you fell asleep because you work so hard. i wouldn't dare hit you. period."

tooru's eyes softened as you continued to ramble on all the way to the bedroom. you continued to ramble on as the two of you got into bed.

"baby, shh." tooru cut you off from your rant, bringing your body closer to his, his head on your chest. his body immediately relaxed as you started running your fingers through his brown locks. soon he was beginning to fall asleep.

"i love you, tooru. please don't ever think i would put my hands on you to harm you in anyway." you spoke softly. "i wouldn't hit you for being tired either, okay?"

"i know, baby. i was just caught off guard. i love you, so much." tooru sleepily spoke, his words slightly slurring. "i love you."

notes:

slightly proofread

i hope this was to ur liking anon 😭 requests are open!

[scrollonso]

Cinnamon — Strollonso (Prologue)

The café buzzed with the usual campus chatter, the smell of coffee and pastries filling the air. Lance sat at a round table near the window, sunlight casting a soft glow on his dark hair as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against his notebook. His iced coffee sat in front of him, already half-melted, condensation pooling on the table. His brows were furrowed, lips pursed in frustration as he stared at his notes, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

His friends — Jessica, Esteban, Charles, and Zhou — lounged around him in varying states of relaxation. Jessica was scrolling through her phone, occasionally making comments about her latest assignment. Esteban leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, while Charles and Zhou debated the ethics paper they had due at the end of the week. But Lance wasn’t listening to any of it.

Suddenly, he broke the relative calm.

“I swear, Dr. Alonso is crazy in love with me,” he blurted out, loud enough to turn a few heads from nearby tables.

The reaction was instant. Esteban choked on his drink, coughing and spluttering as Jessica raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Charles and Zhou exchanged wide-eyed glances before Zhou burst out laughing.

“What?” Esteban finally managed to wheeze, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Like the Beyoncé song?” Zhou asked, grinning.

Charles immediately smacked the back of Zhou’s head. “Only you would be thinking about Beyoncé when Lance is in the middle of a damn schizophrenic episode.”

Jessica stifled a giggle behind her hand as Charles’ laughter grew louder. Lance scowled, narrowing his eyes at his friends.

“I’m serious,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “You don’t see the way he looks at me during lectures. The comments he makes… It’s not normal, I swear.”

Jessica leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Wait, wait. Are you serious? You’re talking about the same Dr. Alonso who made us write that twenty-fucking-seven-page essay on moral philosophy last week? That Dr. Alonso?”

“Yes! I’m telling you, he’s insane,” Lance insisted. “The way he stares at me during class — it’s like I’m the only person in the room. And then he called my analysis ‘profound’ the other day, and after that, he barely looked at anyone else for the rest of the lecture.”

Zhou raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “Or maybe he just really liked your paper? Ever think of that?”

Charles grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the situation. “Or maybe you’ve been listening to too much Lana Del Rey.”

The others burst into laughter, and even Lance had to bite back a smile.

“Come on, Lance,” Zhou said, shaking his head. “You think our business ethics professor is crazy in love — great song, by the way — with you? Sounds like a stretch.”

Lance crossed his arms defensively, a stubborn pout on his face. “I’m not saying I WANT him to be into me,” he muttered. “I mean… okay, he’s hot. Obviously. His muscles are fucking insane, and don’t even get me started on his grey hairs—”

“Jesus Christ, Lance,” Esteban coughed, cutting him off. “Reel it in.”

Lance waved him off, trying to suppress the heat rising to his cheeks. “But there’s no way I’m imagining this. You didn’t see how flustered he got when I stayed after class to ask a question.”

Jessica smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe you’re just his favorite student. I’m not sure the old man can even see well enough to think about that fat ass you’ve got.”

“Right,” Esteban chuckled. “And next, you’ll be telling us he watches Call Me By Your Name in his office while thinking about you.”

Lance tried to hide his grin, but it broke through anyway. “We are kind of Elio and Oliver coded,” he said, his tone teasing. “My dad was in one of his college classes, you know.”

“Oh my God,” Jessica groaned, laughing as she grabbed her bag. “Okay, we need to get to class before you spiral any further.”

They all stood, grabbing their things and making their way across campus toward the lecture hall.

As they entered the room, Lance’s eyes immediately sought out Dr. Alonso. He was standing at the front of the class, impeccably dressed as always, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that Lance definitely shouldn’t have been looking at. But seriously, how could he resist? Especially with that gorgeous tattoo from his wrist to the bend of his arm. His sharp eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on Lance.

Lance felt his heart skip a beat. Shit.

Jessica nudged him with her elbow, whispering, “Okay, I’m starting to see what you mean.”

Dr. Alonso cleared his throat, his voice steady and authoritative. “Good afternoon, class. Today, we’ll be discussing the complexities of moral relativism and its application in modern business practices.”

Lance sat at his usual spot, near the middle of the lecture hall — not too close to be suspicious, but not too far that he couldn’t see every detail of Dr. Alonso. His friends, sprawled around him, whispered quietly as they unpacked their laptops and notebooks, but Lance barely registered any of it.

His eyes were fixed on him.

Dr. Alonso stood at the front, hands resting lightly on the podium. His voice flowed smoothly through the room, low and rich, with a slight accent that made every word sound infinitely more interesting. Lance tried — he really tried — to take notes, but his pen hovered uselessly above his paper.

“Lance, you’re staring,” Jessica whispered without looking up from her screen.

“I’m not—” Lance started to protest, but he cut himself off when Dr. Alonso looked up again. His gaze locked on Lance’s for just a second too long before he continued pacing in front of the whiteboard.

Lance’s heart was racing now.

He slouched in his seat, running a hand through his hair. Okay, this is fine. Totally fine. No big deal. But it was a big deal, especially when Dr. Alonso started rolling up his sleeves further, revealing more of that tattoo that Lance had definitely been fantasizing about since the semester started.

“I’m gonna lose my mind,” Lance muttered under his breath.

Esteban leaned in. “You’ve already lost it. He’s not into you. He’s grading you.”

Jessica smirked. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind being graded by those hands.”

“Jessica!” Lance hissed, scandalized but laughing despite himself.

Dr. Alonso clapped his hands once, drawing the class’s attention back to him. “Moral relativism often forces us to examine our own biases. What we think is right or wrong isn’t always absolute. Context matters.”

As he spoke, he moved toward the side of the room, his gaze sweeping across the students. But once again, his eyes returned to Lance, who quickly averted his own.

Jessica snickered quietly. “He totally just looked at you.”

“I told you,” Lance whispered, feeling vindicated but also panicked. “It’s not in my head.”

Charles leaned across the aisle. “If he starts quoting Lana Del Rey lyrics, I’m walking out.”

Zhou stifled a laugh. “He’s gonna give Lance an A and write ‘young and in love’ in the margins.”

Lance shook his head, trying to focus on the lecture, but it was impossible. Every glance, every subtle shift in Dr. Alonso’s expression, felt like a secret message just for him.

Toward the end of class, Dr. Alonso leaned against the desk at the front, arms folded. His voice softened slightly. “Remember, what we perceive as ethical may change based on who we’re dealing with. Relationships, power dynamics… they all affect our judgment.”

Lance nearly choked on air.

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Okay, that sounded personal.”

“Am I hallucinating?” Lance whispered, sticking the tip of his tongue out and smiling as he held back a laugh. “Or is he flirting?”

Charles grinned. “If this turns into a fanfiction plot, I’m gonna scream.”

As the class wrapped up and students began packing their things, Lance stayed frozen in his seat. He was overthinking everything — every look, every word, every interaction.

“Let’s go,” Zhou nudged him.

But Lance hesitated, watching Dr. Alonso gather his papers at the front of the room. He was moving slower than usual, lingering as if waiting for something — or someone.

Jessica caught the look in Lance’s eyes and grinned. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re about to do the whole ‘stay after class to ask a question’ thing.”

Lance flushed. “Jess, it’s a valid strategy.”

“It’s a thirsty strategy,” Esteban teased, slinging his bag over his shoulder before blowing a kiss to his friend. “Good luck, lover boy.”

As his friends filed out of the room, Lance stood slowly, gathering his courage. He approached the desk, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dr. Alonso glanced up, his sharp eyes softening as Lance approached. “Mr. Stroll. Do you have a question?”

Lance swallowed hard, his palms sweaty. “Yeah, um… I just wanted to clarify something about the reading.”

Dr. Alonso tilted his head, watching him closely. “Which part?”

Lance struggled to remember a single thing from the reading. His mind was blank. “Uh… the part about… power dynamics?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Dr. Alonso’s mouth. “Power dynamics. Of course.”

There was a beat of silence, the tension between them almost palpable.

Lance licked his lips nervously. “So… is context everything?”

Dr. Alonso’s gaze flickered to his mouth, just for a second, before meeting his eyes again. “In ethics? Yes. In life? Sometimes.” He paused, leaning in slightly. “It depends on what you’re hoping to achieve.”

Lance’s breath caught in his throat. Holy shit.

“Right,” Lance managed to say, his voice a little shaky. “Got it.”

Dr. Alonso’s smile deepened, his expression unreadable. “I’ll see you next class, Mr. Stroll.”

Lance nodded quickly, grabbing his things and practically sprinting out of the room. As soon as he was in the hallway, he pressed his back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

His friends were waiting just outside, grinning like idiots.

“So,” Jessica said, folding her arms. “Did you get your context?”

Lance ran a hand over his face, groaning. “Shut up.”

Charles laughed. “You’re so fucked.”

“No,” Lance muttered, shaking his head. “I’m definitely not imagining it.”

Next

[vomittedsoap]

reblogging my own post bc lowkey...we need to put a brief pause on the Body of Christ or Doubting Thomas metaphor and move on to greener pastures. I mean yeah literally they're eating eachother, but we can also find some Biblical analogies with

the Leviathan (Tunbaaq..also easy bc it's Crozier is extremely fixated on a fictitious book of the Bible named "Leviathan")

Peter walking on water (the shipmates walking on ice=water, in the book there's more problems with them falling through the ice. That's how the majority of the marines end up dying)

Noah's Ark when he constructs a ship to find land (ahem ahem...northwest passage?) Generally there's a lot of boat-centric verses.

Jonah, even though I've already seen a few of y'all get into that. Good job, team.

Sodom and Gomorrah (easy...Hickey and Gibson/Manson, but the more interesting part is Lot's wife being transformed into a pillar of salt as she looks back at the city of Sodom after it was struck down by God...plug and play,baby.)

The Israelites travelling across the desert after escaping Egypt (idrk but it's such a long story there's probably something in there, especially the golden calf or the Israelites' general uncertainty about having to rely solely on God for every single thing)

Anything that has to do with fire, i.e. burning bush, tongues of fire at the Pentecost, the cleansing fire etc.

Before Jesus feeds the five thousand people with fish and bread, he hops on a boat to go to a solitary/deserted/uninhabitable place. He was known to do this several times, including going up the mountain before being crucified and venturing out into the desert where he was tempted--these being intimate moments with God where he contemplates his next move (think about Irving's schpiel to Hickey about being alone on the boat being a great time to fix yourself)

Jesus going into the desert for 40 days and being tempted in several ways: turning stones into bread (think of the crewmates eating inedible stuff like shoes), to prove himself by jumping off the temple so the angels will catch him (think of John Franklin assuming that God will save them with no work on their part, or any time someone was in air, Blanky hanging from the mast maybe), and to worship the devil and become king of the world--which can be interpreted as the devil telling Jesus to obtain the world through political means instead of God's plan (think about the promise of land in the Northwest Passage, or colonialism in general, as well as all the political factors that came into creating the Franklin Expedition)

Daniel refuses to eat the King's meat and opulent foods/wine that were blessed by other gods, and instead he and half of his followers eat just vegetables and water, and the other half eat the king's food. The ones that eat the meager vegetables and water are strong, but the ones eating the meat become weaker and sickly in comparison. (think about eating lead-tainted human meat, or lead-tainted goldner's cans instead of the fresh food)

Just paraphrasing using my 3rd grade understanding as well as several ActionBible reads. Anyways... I'm just saying we can get pretty creative here, and these are some examples that I'd love to see used.

The Ladder has to be one of the best episodes of The Terror(not that the otheres are worse but ykwim). The speech Crozier gives that features the story of Jacob's Ladder as well as the rest of the writing from Sir John that basically reiterates what he said to Collins before he descended in his diving suit (something like "God lies in all realms") has such a chokehold on me...The whole episode is so eloquent, like even Irving's speech to Hickey about bettering himself while he has the chance and the world being born anew from an ark is beautifully said.

Interestingly, the story of Jacob's Ladder happens when Jacob lays his head on stone to sleep in an ancient city called Bethel, which means "House of God" and kind of made its debut in this verse. There's a fable/morality tale that takes place in Bethel when Elisha(the current prophet at the time) is taunted by a mob of teenagers, whom he curses, and God sends she-bears to kill 42 of them.

"And he went up from thence unto Bethel: and as he was going up by the way, there came forth little children out of the city, and mocked him, and said unto him, Go up, thou bald head; go up, thou bald head. And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the Lord. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them." 2 Kings 2:23-24 (King James Version)

Basically the story is teaching that you shouldn't jeer at prophets no matter how much you dislike what they're saying. Possibly there's parallels here with Tuunbaq.?? The She-bear?

I mean I'm not the most well-versed with Bible stories like this one so if any of you know more feel free to share. It's just interesting to me.

[riddle-me-fear]

so hypothetically whos big spoon and who's little spoon?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Factually, Jon is usually the big spoon. It's honestly quite logical, since he's much taller than me, wraps around my body nicely with his long limbs and- Ah... Uhm...

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Aaaand?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Aaaand I get cold quite easily, so it's very convenient-

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, don' try ta talk yerself outta this, you was gon' say somethin' else, ain't that right?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

I wasn't-!

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Eeeeed?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Oh for the love of god, Jon, you know exactly what I was going to say!

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

An' what's that, Eddie?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Jesus christ- You really enjoy humiliating me, don't you? Fine! I enjoy the feeling of your hips against my behind. Happy?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Ya could'a jus' said ya like ma di-

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

MOVING ON! Sometimes, however, Jonathan wants to be the little spoon, so we switch it up every now and then, whatever we're in the mood for. Also, Jon sleeps like a corpse and I get uncomfortable remaining in the same position all night. Thus, should we fall asleep spooning, we'll never wake in that same position. Well, Jon might, lest I turn him over.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Or I wake up on da flo' cuz ye kicked me off tha bed.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

So? You don't even wake up from that, and only notice in the morning.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Eh. S'ppose ye'r right.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Of course I am. I always am.

[oacest]

Hello, I am looking for Interview with Liam recs. I have watched so many of Noel (and wow does he like doing podcasts, thank god <3). But now I would like to dive into the Liam side of the lore more, I know he is not doing as many as his brother, but if you have any good ones you could recommend, that would be great!

(I also read he has this documentary from a couple years back, is it a good account?)

god love noel and his genetic predisposition to yapping <3 but yes it sure can make finding good solo liam interviews tricky, especially since he doesn't particularly like dealing w the press and it's a rare interviewer who gives him enough space and asks the right kind of questions to get him really talking. for some reason a lot of the best ones tend to be in print rather than filmed, which might be due to him feeling more relaxed without a camera around, idk. but here are a few of the ones that came to mind for us. some he says interesting things in and some are just silly/hot <3.

2018, talking quite articulately and thoughtfully about the Situation with noel (among other things)

liam & andy in 2005. what a duo

talking to chris moyles for radio x in 2017

liam & alan in '95

the right here right now documentary has a lot of good liam stuff in it, worth a watch either way

this 2013 documentary about beady eye

this one straddles the good/hot line bc he is relating heartfelt and interesting observations on fame and fatherhood but also he's in that fuckass hot villain outfit and fiercely saying things like "that's my baby" about lennon and furthermore if he and the incredibly cute interviewer didn't fuck out their crushing sexual chemistry in a closet somewhere afterwards what is even the point of anything

and a followup of sorts, edith bowman talking to him again in 2017

this one worth it for the "androgyny/feminine qualities/i'm a bird?" bit alone

the classic drunk shirtless "interview" after the australian flight incident ("i've got a tattoo me and i'll stab him" *points to tiny delicate 'patsy' script on his arm.*) (is he the funniest man alive? yes.)

"would jesus christ have been a fuckin pervert if he had a crisp packet on his head? no one knows, d'they?"

honourable mention to this one where he says quite seriously that he was a hooker at 15, with zero followup on either his or the interviewer's part

if anyone has more they'd like to add, please do, these were just off the top of our heads!!!!

also yes his propaganda doc (as it is affectionately known around here) is quite good and well worth a watch.

[gingerteafairy]

𝙪𝙣𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 (𝙢𝙖𝙭 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Destiny has funny ways to bring you back to your soulmate.

tags n warnings: soulmates, alcohol, mutual mast, comfort sex, idiots in love. word count: 2.4k

Face to face. Same bed. You’d finally mustered the courage to fight for your love. Jake held your hand, his grip firm yet comforting after defending you from a group of rowdy party goers who thought they could push you around. The muffled thrum of electronic music buzzed in the background.

Now, he was beside you, arms around your shoulders, comforting you on his bed. He'd offered you a safe place to stay for the night, his concern so genuine it only confirmed what you’d suspected for years. After crushing on him for what felt like forever, you were absolutely certain he felt the same. This wasn’t just an opportunity—it was the opportunity.

“I love you,” you murmured, closing your eyes and leaning in, heart racing.

“Aww, my little sister’s finally stopped being a brat. I love you too.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you as he pulled you closer.

Your eyes flew open.

Oh. My. God.

You forced an awkward giggle, your cheeks flaming. “Jake, I didn’t mean it like that. I love you more than… you know… friends.”

“Oh, I know that,” he replied with a smirk, tapping your nose playfully. “You’re too obvious, silly girl.”

The ground might as well have swallowed you whole. Shocked, you jerked back, the sudden movement throwing you off balance. You rolled off the edge of the bunk bed and landed with a loud thud on the floor below.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Jake leaned over the side, his brows furrowed as he tried not to laugh.

Flat on your back, you stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. “I’m fine. I’m so fucking fine.” Your voice cracked as sobs bubbled out of you. “Everything is fucking perfect.”

Scrambling to your feet, you stumbled toward the door. Jake’s voice called after you, pleading for you to stay and insisting that nothing would change between you. Yeah, right. Nothing would change—except that you’d just confessed your love and been sister-zoned. How could you be so naive?

You didn’t look back, pushing open another door at random. All you needed was a quiet space to cry and mourn the fantasy of Jake proposing on one knee after your big confession.

But instead, a groggy male voice startled you. “Who’s there?”

You froze. Of course. Because tonight wasn’t terrible enough already, you had to walk in on someone else.

Wiping your tears, you turned toward the voice, and your heart dropped. Max Cooperman. Your high school best friend. The guy who’d confessed his crush on you two years ago—then promptly disappeared without giving you a chance to respond.

Max squinted at you, his curls a wild mess as he sat up in the bed. Recognition dawned in his sleepy eyes, and he bolted upright. “Christ’s sake!” he exclaimed, scrambling out of the bed so fast he stumbled to the floor.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of it all making you giddy. “Would it be less weird if I said I did the exact same thing five minutes ago?”

“Probably makes it more weird,” he muttered, rubbing his back and grimacing as he stood. “Fell from a bed, huh?”

“Worse,” you admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Bunk bed and my dignity.”

His laughter erupted, filling the room with a familiar warmth. He collapsed onto the bed beside you, rubbing his temples. “This night just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

For the first time, you looked at him—really looked at him. His shoulders were broader, his curls a little looser but never out of its greasy charm, his face sharper yet somehow still soft in the glow of the bedside lamp. Time had turned Max Cooperman into someone you almost didn’t recognize.

“It’s… good to see you,” he began, his voice hesitant as he met your gaze.

“Yeah,” you replied, offering your hand for a handshake. “Good to see you too.”

His hand enveloped yours, firm but careful. “You look great,” he remarked with a small smile.

“Working out and stuff?” you teased, arching an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “Something like that. You’re not too bad yourself.”

You laughed softly, the tension between you melting into something easier. This was Max—funny, easygoing, and impossible to stay mad at. Even after all this time, he made you feel safe.

“Where’ve you been all this time?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Traveling. Taking pictures. Kinda fighting and learing things of my gun obsession.” He paused, his voice quieter. “Mostly with Jake.”

The mention of Jake sent a pang through your chest, and your smile faltered. “Oh… Jake. Yeah.”

Max tilted his head, his curls bouncing. “Rejected?”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “God, it was awful. He didn’t just friend-zone me—he sister-zoned me. Can you believe that?”

Max burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he rolled back onto the bed.

“Why are you laughing, idiot?” you demanded, throwing a pillow at him.

“Because!” he gasped between fits of laughter. “Rejection! You rejected me, and now you’re being rejected. Karma’s real, chica.”

You froze, then shook your head. “That’s not true. I didn’t reject you, Max. You didn’t even give me a chance to respond! You just… ran off.”

His laughter faded, replaced by a sheepish grin. “Because I thought you didn’t feel the same. You would run into my arms if you did.”

“Maybe I didn’t know what I felt back then,” you admitted softly. “But you didn’t stick around to find out. Ran like a pussy.”

Max lilted his head, his eyes searching yours. “So… what would you have said?”

You hesitated, your breath catching as a strange warmth filled the space between you. Then, with a smirk, you shoved him lightly. “Guess you’ll never know.”

Max’s grin deepened, his dimples showing as he teased, “Fair enough. But for the record? Watching you awkwardly standing there like a plant when I left town—that was a moment of pure privilege.”

You giggled, poking the tip of his nose. “You're adorable, Max.”

“Is there any way i can make you feel good?” He suggested, plopping on his elbow.

You looked at him thoughtfully, pondering Max's not-so-innocent idea, taking longer than usual to open your mouth. "This will ruin our friendship forever." you murmured, sheepish, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

"It always sucked, anyway" he teases, shrugging to lie down on the bed again. You chuckled softly, the sound barely audible, and shifted closer. Your fingers brushed against his arm, warm and familiar, as his hand lazily found its way to your cheek.

“C’mere,” he whispered, his words slow, like he was dragging them through a dream. “Max’s gonna make you feel good, okay?”

You leaned in without thinking, your movements languid and unhurried. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, barely more than a brush, as if both of you were too tired to put in the effort but couldn’t resist the pull. It was warm, comforting, and achingly sweet.

You hummed, hearing the soft kiss sounds while you straddle your legs on his, moaning when he gripped your waist, his thigh slightly brushing in your core.

When you pulled away, your foreheads rested together, neither of you bothering to move further.

“cant believe im already wet,” you whispered, giggling, though your voice lacked comfort.

“im worse, im aching down here,” he replied, his lips quirking into a small, sleepy smile. “should’ve jerk off before sleeping, i’d last longer.”

“Nooo.” you cooed, cupping his face, pursing his lips. “i wanna see you cumming.”

“Fuck, don't say that.” He whimpered, lazily snaking his hand to your butt, pulling you up to meet his erection. You licked your lips, aroused. “Feel what you do to me? I used to jerk off on highschool thinking about we fucking like this.”

“Why don't we do it?” You teased, looking at him through your lashes, daring to lift your dress. He downed his eyes, paying careful attention to each tiny movement. You took his hand, shyly directing it to your panties. “Max. Show me how you jerked off f’ me.”

“What?” He gulped, struggling to look at your face again, his concentration was all on how wet you were and how his hand touched you now and how warm his fingerprints felt you. His eyebrows lifted to his hairline when he realized, clearing his throat. “Yeah, i.-ill do it."

He took his hand off you reluctantly and worked on peeling off his jeans and underwear, his veiny cock flushed with forming adorable pre-cum you needed to taste, touching it with your fingers to suck it in your mouth, savoring it slowly.

“Fuck.” He whispered, watching the scene.

His hand subconsciously traveled to wrap his cock as he saw your taste bud recognizing Max flavor. He gave a few pumps, his eyes accompanied your hand snaking to your panties, grasping the hem and peeling off your body. You take a deep breath, opening your legs for him seeing you work on your clit, slowly as his hand.

“Max…” you purr, feeling his piercing eyes, stroking your clit in gentle circles, threatening to put a finger inside, only getting some liquid to aid the movement. Max swallowed, increasing the pace on his fist when you finally put one of your fingers inside, arching your back.

“Y-yeah?” he stuttered with semi-closed eyes at you, gulping, stroking himself.

“Make me feel good,” You whined, biting your lips.

“Yeah…Yeah, sure.”He nodded, heady, glued on your glistening cunt. Max uncurled his fingers from himself and brought you closer by the hand. He swallowed hard, feeling like his head was in the clouds as he brought the tip closer to your pussy. “Is it okay?”He stares at your both privates together, humming at the intimacy.

“I want you, Max. I need you.” You purred, rolling on his erection.He pressed into you, letting out a whimper when fully inside, slapping a hand over his mouth, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “Fuck, sorry. It 's…”

You chuckle softly, shoving his hand and placing it on your chest. “Don’t hold back, I like it.”

He nods, taking you with both hands, reassuring himself you wouldn't just disappear as he begins to move. “hmmmm, baby, you feel so good” you moan, catching him with your arms, breathing together as your mouths gap, his tongue slightly out as he shutted his eyes, feeling your walls hugging him.

“Yeah?” He smirked. Max looks at you proudly as he gains enough confidence to fasten his sway and roll your dress up, roaming his smart hands all over your body, devouring your lips in a wet passionate kiss you weren't exactly to retribute. Max felt good enough to break up your system and surrender to his passion. Fuck, he was better than anyone. He was perfect, enough to have you gasping onto his mouth at each harsh, rough, raw and lovely thrust he gave.

“Max, sweetheart. Ohshit, this….” you mewl, breaking the kiss with him nipping it. He pecks it, looking under to see his cock moisturized with your arousal, you moaning and he was the cause of all that. He felt you close, which made him double the speed, grabbing your neck.

“you wanna cum?” he hoarses, swaying his hips desperately as he licked your lips and kept eye contact with you, swallowing to prevent his eyes from shutting when you nodded and shutted yours. “open yours eyes, you gonna cum? cum on me, cum f’ me.”

He changed positions without leaving your inside, placing you on your back while he took your hands and intertwined them with his fingers, holding you with one hand in a firm grip, the other placing one of your legs next to his head. Deep, you would cum with Max cock’s kissing your cervix.

“Oh, fuuck.” you cry out, when he reaches your g-spot, convulsing. “Do that again, don’t. Fuck, Max. Oh my God, honey, hmmm…..” You babbled as you trembled, this orgasm would hit you hard like a train. And so it did, arching your back like a cat as you screamed and curled your toes, creaming Max’s cock.

He whimpered by your walls clenching, whispering sweetly in your ear. “You’re so hot, you’re…everything. Shit, if you keep doing this im cumming. Hmmmm, you made f’ me. Shit, shit.”

He breathed heavily on your neck sensitive skin before brushing your lips together again. He felt pulsating and pushed back his sensitive cock, stroking himself at the scene of you still trembling of your late climax, cumming all over your belly.

Max remained frozen, gazing at your belly marked by him and the marks he caused on you, drawn on your neck. He was so surprised that he started choking on his own saliva, coughing.

“Oh my God, Max!” You desperately raised up to help him, tapping his back to help him but he was only getting redder. “God, shit. Oh, God. Water. Shit, where’s the water?” you crawled on the bed, standing up and reaching for a glass of God-knows-what and handing him.

Max drank and coughed even more. “What the hell’ve you given me? Vodka?” he choked, throwing the glass on the floor and slamming his chest and deep breathing relieved when the almost dead experience ended.

You faced him silently before you both burst into a heart-laugh, where you collapsed on the floor with him, laughing even harder when he coughed again. “Fuck, thiswill never end.” you choked suddenly and he laughed even louder.

“Karma, fucking karma again.” he squeaks, rolling on the floor, you crawled to climb on his lap and he immediately shut off, holding your hips. “I…”

“Max, you okay man? Heard you screaming and-” you froze up at Jake’s voice, turning your head to face him over your shoulder as he relaxed and a smirk widened on his face. “I knew it, I KNEW IT.”

“No, Jake!” you scream and paused, looking down and seeing you with no panties, dress covered in cum and Max pantless. “Fuck, yes. That’s what you’re seeing. Max and i, we fucked and you can suck a dick, Jake because you’re a big son of a bitch.”

He grinned. “Thank God you're unmatched with me. I always cheered for you and he ended up together, you the only one I can trust with, Max.”

The poor Max that was silent (and naked) all the time lifted his hands up in surrender. “I swear I didn't make anything.”he promised and you sigh, looking with sweet eyes at him.

“shut the fucking door, Jake.” you began, not even bothering to look behind. You bite your lip, watching Max swallow hard. “Now it's my turn to make you feel good, Max.”

[katethetank]

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Movie night at Steve's! The boys make things official, get a little more intimate, and have a talk about their sexual boundaries CW: Handjobs, Eddie has several piercings, discussions of consent, STI testing, kinks, boundaries Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, slow burn, eventual smut Word Count:3,740

Chapter 8<<Masterlist>>Chapter 10

He’s all set. Soft t-shirt on, gray sweatpants (yeah, he went there), wrapped in a hoodie, and he’s got a bag full of snacks in hand. Eddie never thought he’d be so excited to just have a night in watching a movie. His last date with Steve was absolute perfection. They opened up so much to each other, and having the honor of watching Steve fall apart on his thigh was nothing short of breathtaking. He may or may not have fucked his fist to the thought of it several times since then. 

Shaking that image from his head, he raises his hand and knocks on the door. Moments later, it opens up and he’s greeted by Cozy Steve. Flannel pajama pants, white t-shirt that shows off his arms (good god), and fuzzy socks with ice cream cones on them. Fucking christ, Eddie wants to devour him.

“Hey Eds. C’mon in. I got the couch all set up and you can grab something from the fridge if you’re thirsty.”

“Hey Stevie. You look adorable. Kiss first?”

That blush is going to be his undoing. Steve steps towards him, gives him a small peck, and ushers him inside. Eddie kicks off his sneakers, and they head into the kitchen. “Alright sweetheart, I wasn't sure what kind of movie snacks you preferred, so I got a little bit of everything,” he says as he starts to unload his haul. “Popcorn, Twizzlers, M&M’s, Sour Patch Kids, Reese’s Pieces, gummy worms, Junior Mints, and Milk Duds. I hope at least one of these is up to your standards!”

“Oh my god, did you rob a gas station? This is awesome! Ok uh…let’s get the popcorn going first.” Steve puts a bag in the microwave, and while it’s popping he gets a big bowl out and they get their drinks ready. He fills the bowl with finished popcorn and then moves to select his snacks. Eddie watches his eyes bounce around the options, then he reaches out and snatches the Twizzlers and Reese’s Pieces, holding them protectively to his chest. “Mine.”

Eddie giggles and grabs the Sour Patch Kids and gummy worms. They wrangle their candy, glasses of Coke and bowl of popcorn and move to the living room. The lights are all off, and he’s got candles lit around the room giving it all a warm glow. The couch has extra pillows on it and a pile of the softest looking blankets. They put down their haul and settle in, not bothering with the opposite sides of the couch anymore. Steve pulls out one of the blankets and tucks it around their laps. Before Eddie gets fully comfy, he unzips his hoodie and drapes it over the back of the couch. He’s about to reach for the popcorn bowl when he notices that Steve has gone stock-still beside him.

“You ok Stevie?”

His eyes look a little glassy and his mouth is kind of hanging open. “Just uh…I like your tattoos. They’re um…” he visibly gulps and continues, “Really cool.” 

Eddie reaches over, grabbing Steve’s Coke and hands it to him. “Here sweetheart. You’re lookin’ a little…thirsty.” 

“Oh fuck off!” Steve laughs. “You know you look good, asshole!”

“Me?! You got a license for those guns?” he asks, poking Steve’s biceps. 

Ooh. Firm.

“God, you and these lines.”

“You love it. Now, what are we watching?”

Steve turns on the tv and there’s already a movie queued up ready to go. Eddie gasps. “You didn’t!”

Steve looks smug. “I did.” He presses play and they finally settle in with their snacks, snuggled under a soft blanket.

The intro to the movie plays and Eddie does his best David Bowie impression. “It’s onlyyy forever! Not long at all!” Steve laughs and joins him, doing a truly awful impression himself. “Lost and lonely! No one can blame you, for walking away! But too much rejection, no love injection!”

Steve sighs and tosses a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “I think this movie was my first true bi-panic experience. When I was a kid I had such a crush on Jennifer Connelly, and then in comes Bowie…that hair, a cloud of glitter, those pants?! Game over.”

“Oh yeah, Little Eddie definitely had some fantasies about the Goblin King taking him away.”

“Nothin‘ little about it,” Steve mumbles.

Eddie chokes on his gummy worm and splutters, “What was that?!”

“I said ‘do you want a Twizzler?’” Steve replies with the big stupid smile on his face. 

Eddie bites it right out of his hand. “You’re a menace.”

They spend the movie singing along, doing horrendous impressions of the characters (including Eddie using a gummy worm to impersonate the little blue worm in the wall), and filling themselves full of sugar. Eddie’s so happy.

The credits roll and Steve asks, “Have you heard the theory about who the goblins actually are?”

“No? What theory? They’re goblins.”

“Not exactly. So, Jareth steals children, and if they’re not found they turn into goblins, right?..”

“Oh…yeah ok…”

“There’s this theory out there that he was once in love with a girl named Sarah. He wanted to marry her, but her father forbade it, and wanted to keep her as a servant. So he kidnapped her little brother and took him away to this fairy realm in hopes that it would lure Sarah there so he could keep her, and turned the brother into a goblin to be his servant. But time passes differently in the fairy realm, so Sarah ends up growing old and dying and never finds him. He goes totally mad, and spends his eternal life searching the mortal world for girls named Sarah, taking their child or sibling or whatever, and then she’s lured into the labyrinth to save the kid. Only they never make it. So when Hoggle asks what her name is and she tells him it’s Sarah, that’s why he says, ‘that’s what I figured.’ Because they’re all Sarah.”

Eddie’s mind is sufficiently blown. “That’s so fucked up.”

“I know right?”

“I love it.”

“I know right?!”

“God, my boy’s so smart.” Eddie doesn’t even realize what he’s said until Steve looks at him all bashful and sweet.

“Your boy, huh?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. “I don’t know…how would you feel about that? Being mine.”

Steve’s eyes shine with unshed tears and Eddie’s heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

“Yeah? So you wanna make this official sweetheart?”

Suddenly he has a lap full of Steve and big hands planted on his chest. “Yes. I want this. I want you Eddie.” 

“Then you have me, Stevie.” He wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and pulls him in close, lifting up his chin and being met with Steve’s soft lips. It starts slow and sweet. Savoring this moment and what it all means. The intensity picks up as their tongues dive into each other’s mouths. 

Eddie sucks on Steve’s tongue and is rewarded with the filthiest moan and grinding of hips. God bless soft pants, he can really feel Steve’s dick this time as it rubs right alongside his own. It feels heavy and Eddie wants to get his hands and his mouth on him. Anything his boy - his boy - wants.

He takes charge, as he so often prefers to do, and flips them so Steve’s on his back and Eddie’s settles in the cradle of his hips. Steve lets out a startled sound gasping, “Holy shit, you’re a lot stronger than you look!” 

“You saying I look weak?”

“God no. Just surprised me.”

Eddie smirks and leans down to pick up where they left off. Their mouths are plastered together, kissing like it’s their last day on Earth, hands pawing at each other’s shirts. Steve tugs at the hem and pants, “Off!” right into Eddie’s mouth. He reluctantly parts from Steve’s lips, sits up, and pulls his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. 

Steve looks up at him like he hung the goddamn moon. “Jesus Christ, Eds. You’re so fucking hot.” He tentatively reaches up, his big hands gently skimming over the flesh of his abs, up to his chest, and his thumbs graze over the barbells in his nipples. “Fucking hell, I had no idea you had piercings here.” He applies a little more pressure and Eddie hisses. Shit that feels good. “Sensitive?” Steve asks.

“Very. What about you, gorgeous? Can I take your shirt off? We don't have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve sits up and starts to remove his shirt, Eddie helps to get it off and join his on the floor. His breath stutters as he takes in this beautiful man underneath him. Miles of golden skin, speckled with these biteable little moles, and lord help him, he wants to bury his face in all that chest hair. He’s muscular, yet soft. Eddie wants to map his body with his tongue.

“God damn, look at you Stevie. You’re a fucking work of art.”

He arches an eyebrow and says, “Me? Look at you. Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Eddie can’t recall if he’s ever been called beautiful before. If he has, there’s no way it meant as much as it does coming out of his boy’s mouth. He wastes no time getting his lips back on him, and buries his hands in all that glorious hair on his pecks. He pushes Steve back down to the couch, elbows on either side of his head and kisses him breathless.

Their dicks are sliding alongside each other as Eddie grinds down. Steve’s hands, god those fucking hands, grab hold of his ass and pull him in, adding even more pressure. They’re gonna get a friction burn at this rate and Eddie couldn’t care less. He kisses his way to Steve’s ear and whispers to him, “This what you need honey? Tell me what you want. Anything.”

“Ah, fuck, Eddie! Please, please!”

“Please what? Gotta use your words princess.” He feels the full body shudder that runs through Steve. Yeah ok. Put a pin in that one for later.

“Hands…please Eddie. I need your hands.”

“Good boy. Thank you for telling me sweetheart. This ok?” he asks as his hand moves down to the waistband of Steve’s pants. He dips his fingers in the tiniest bit and pauses, waiting for confirmation. Steve nods his head and Eddie tuts, “Ah ah, I need words.”

Steve’s pupils are dilated as they lock eyes. “Yes. Please baby. Please touch me?”

Baby.

Call the coroner, Eddie just flatlined. He’s never been somebody’s baby before. And goddamn if he doesn’t love it. He crashes their mouths together and snakes his hand past Steve’s waistband. His fingers graze over the silky flesh of that hard cock and Steve whimpers into his mouth. Eddie wraps his hand around the shaft and gives an experimental stroke. He’s thick and heavy in his hand. Long and hard as rock. His boy must be aching if the loud moan he lets out is anything to go by.

He pulls his hand away and Steve grapples at his shoulders and whines. “Don’t worry honey. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” He spits into his hand and is about to reach back down when Steve stops him, grabbing his wrist. Steve then makes all the wires in Eddie’s brain cross as he leans up and spits into his palm, adding to the mess. Jesus. Steve helps him along further by shuffling his pants down and letting his cock spring free. It’s just as gorgeous as the rest of him. Flushed pink, thick and long, balls already drawing up tight.

“You’re so gorgeous Stevie. Such a pretty cock.” Eddie gets his hand back on him. The glide is better now as he starts to jack Steve off like it’s his job. He squeezes on the upstroke and twists his wrist, earning groans and whimpers and thrusts. He speeds up his movements and Steve holds onto his shoulders for dear life, thrusting into Eddie’s fist, his breathing getting faster and faster.

“Oh god,” Steve pants. “Baby, I’m so close.” 

“What do you need, honey? Tell me.”

Steve’s glassy eyes look up at him, eyebrows scrunched, mouth hanging open as he gasps, “Kiss me. Kiss me, please!”

Such a simple request. How could he ever deny it? He lowers himself down just enough to capture Steve’s lips in his. It’s nothing filthy. It’s nothing ravenous. It’s soft and simple, just lips on lips. Steve cums immediately with a choked off moan, his whole body shaking while spurts of cum shoot up his stomach and into that fucking delicious chest hair. Eddie’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Eddie. Baby. Oh my god,” he pants as he comes back down to Earth.

Eddie kisses his forehead and slowly lets go of his softening cock. “Feel good honey?”

“Fuck, so good. Get your pants off. Now.”

Eddie chuckles and kisses him again. “You don’t have to Stevie.”

“Fuck that, I want to. C’mon. Sit up.”

Eddie obeys and rises to his knees. His sweatpants are tenting obnoxiously and there’s an obvious wet patch where his cock has been leaking since this all started. He locks eyes with Steve and he slowly slides his pants down, his dick bobbing heavy over Steve’s soft cock.

He sees his boy’s eye flicker down and widen comically. “Holy fuck. Knew you’d be big but Jesus...”

Eddie, a little smug, reaches down and lifts up his dick, giving it a slow stroke and making sure Steve sees the whole thing. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?” He’s practically drooling as he spots the Jacob’s ladder piercings on the underside of his cock. “You’re gonna fuckin kill me, Eds.”

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

Steve nods dumbly and bats Eddie’s hand away. Before he reaches his hand out, he pauses and then scoops up the cum on his stomach and chest. Eddie’s going to have an aneurism. Steve wraps his cum covered hand around Eddie’s shaft and starts to stroke. Eddie groans and throws his head back, panting at the ceiling, “Goddamnit Steve, that’s so fucking hot. Get your cum all over me baby boy.”

Steve whimpers at the pet name and speeds up his strokes. “Little tighter honey. Fuck that’s it. God, you feel so good. Those big fuckin’ hands of yours. Christ!” The pressure is perfect, and he can feel himself teetering on the edge. 

Steve bats his eyes at Eddie and goes in for the kill. “Come on baby. Come on my tits.” Eddie momentarily blacks out as his cum shoots all over Steve’s chest, soaking the hair, coating a nipple, and some even makes it up to his neck and chin. It’s a fucking sight to behold. He wants to take a picture and fucking frame it. 

Legs now like jelly, he collapses onto Steve, careless of the mess between them. He slowly drags his tongue over the cum on Steve’s neck and chin, and feeds it to him in a filthy kiss. Maybe he should have asked first if he’d be ok with that, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind, groaning and gripping the back of Eddie’s head, bringing them impossibly closer. The kiss turns languid as they relax into each other, humming contentedly.

Eddie nuzzles his nose with Steve’s and whispers, “You were incredible, sweetheart. So hot. Was all of that ok?”

Steve hums and closes his eyes. “Absolutely. God, Eddie…those fucking piercings.”

Eddie laughs quietly and plants tender kisses along Steve’s cheeks and jaw. “Just wait till I fuck you. When you’re ready, I’m gonna make you feel so good angel.” Another full body shiver he gets makes him smile wide. “C’mon Stevie, we should get cleaned up.”

“Mmm. Shower?”

“Can’t say no to that.”

They get up and wobbly legs, shucking their pants and socks, and Eddie follows Steve to the bathroom. That ass of his, fucking hell. What a view. Steve gets the shower running and pulls out a couple towels from the cabinet. Water perfectly warm, they get in and take turns under the spray avoiding getting their hair wet. They just need a quick rinse to get all the dried jizz off.

Eddie quickly washes Steve and then himself, and a little while later they’re wrapped in towels and laying in bed, Steve’s head resting in his chest and fingers tracing his tattoos. “Stevie honey?”

“Yeah Eds?”

“We need to talk. About what happened earlier.”

He feels Steve tense up in his arms. “Is everything ok? Did I do something wrong?”

Eddie immediately realizes his mistake. He’s never been in a relationship before, but he should know better than to start a conversation with ‘we need to talk’ - god he’s such an idiot.

“No baby!” Ooh, that feels nice. “Not at all! I just thought it would be a good idea to talk about our limits. Consent is really important to me, and I honestly wish we would have discussed this sooner. That’s on me! We just kinda jumped right in without thinking and I want to know what you’re ok with.”

“Oh.” His body relaxes again, thank christ. “Yeah, we can do that. Where do we start?”

“First off, safety. I wanna let you know I’m clean. Obviously I wouldn't have done any of that if I wasn’t. I got tested when I was in L.A. and I’ve got a clean bill of health.”

“Me too. Got tested a few months ago and haven’t been with anyone since.”

“Good baby, thank you for telling me. Wish I would have done this before my cum was in your mouth, but here we are.”

Steve giggles and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. “Yeah, probably would have been smart. It’s ok though. I trust you. And…I liked it.”

Eddie smirks. “Yeah honey? You’d be ok with that again?”

Steve shifts so that his arms are folded on Eddie’s chest, his head resting in them so they can look each other in the eyes. “Yes. Absolutely. So what else?”

“How do you feel about oral?”

“Love it. Giving it, getting it. Green light all the way.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise. “You’re familiar with the stoplight system?” Steve nods. “Fantastic. We can check that one off the list. Next up: top or bottom? Any preference?”

Steve thinks for a moment. “I don’t have a problem with topping, but I definitely prefer to bottom.”

Excellent.

“That’s great honey. I pretty much exclusively top, so that works perfectly. You ok discussing dynamics?”

The crinkle in his brow is adorable. “How do you mean?”

“Dom and sub dynamics. It’s nothing crazy really, I just prefer being more dominant in bed. Taking control, calling the shots. Is that something you’d be ok with?” He has a feeling it would be, but…verbal confirmation and all.

“Oh, yeah I can see that. I haven’t really done much stuff like that before. Mostly just had quick hookups for the last few years, which really don’t give you a lot of time to play with that. I think I’d really like it though.”

“Thank you for your honesty baby, that’s so good.” Steve’s cheeks flush and Eddie knows exactly what his next question and the answer will be. “I gotta ask now Stevie, because I’m pretty sure I read this right. Do you have a bit of a praise kink baby?”

Steve hides his face in his crossed arms and lets out a muffled, “Yes.”

Eddie giggles and runs his hands through his hair. Goddamn that’s soft. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. How can I work with that if you don’t tell me, huh? Is it just praise, or are you into degradation too?”

Raising his head Steve says, “I’m not sure really…do you have some examples?”

“Slut, whore, stuff like that.”

He wrinkles his nose. ‘Nuff said. “No, I don’t think so. Is that ok?”

“Anything and everything is ok as long as we both consent to it. I don’t have any expectations Steve. My kink is providing pleasure, however my partner likes it.”

“Any other kinks I should know about?” Steve asks with a smirk.

Eddie hasn’t had the luxury of conversations this involved in a really long time. God, he is loving this. “A few, yes. I like control, right? Sometimes that might mean restraints. Cuffs or ropes or scarves. Other times it might be deciding when my partner gets to cum. I get off on controlling their orgasm. Sometimes I like a little pain. Giving or receiving, kinda depends on the mood. Toys are always fun, but not required. And I kinda joked about it before, but I don’t mind at all being called daddy.”

Steve takes a deep breath. Eddie hopes he didn’t just scare him the fuck off. “That’s…a lot.”

Eddie swallows the lump forming in his throat. “A lot…in a bad way? Because we don’t have to do any of that Stevie, promise. I only want to do what you’re comfortable with. So…is any of that a problem for you sweetheart?”

“What do you think?” Steve shifts his hips and even through the towels he can feel Steve’s hard cock press into his leg.

Oh thank fuck.

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. “God damn, you had me worried for a second there! There’s just one more thing I want to be clear about. It’s one of my favorite things, and I haven’t really gotten to do it in a while because quick hookups don’t really allow the time for it.”

“What is it?..”

“Aftercare. I don’t just want to take you apart Steve. I want to put you back together. I love taking care of my partners, especially if something was really intense. There’s a kind of privilege in that.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anybody do that.”

Eddie’s heart breaks a little bit. How have Steve’s past partners not doted on him? Criminal. “I’d be honored to do that for you baby.”

Steve’s small smile is everything. He scoots up to give Eddie a sweet kiss. “Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me for taking care of you. So…all the other stuff I mentioned. What do you think?”

“Green.”

“Mmm, good boy.”

“There’s just one thing I need you to do, Eds.”

“Anything. You name it, it’s yours”

Steve’s smile turns mischievous. “You need to meet my kids.”

Chapter 8<<Masterlist>>Chapter 10

*********************************************

Taglist is open!

@annachronisme @mrsjellymunson @kozuuji

[lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus]

"Jesus h. Christ, you would make such a good housewife wouldn't you? I bet I could just come home after work and-"

Steve removes his legs from around Eddie's waist and abruptly pushes the other man off of him, fighting the grunt of pain from the alpha's dick sliding out so quickly as much as the hurt of his words. Eddie tumbles off the bed with a flail of gangly limbs as Steve rolls to his side and starts looking for his pants.

"Wh- what??!" Steve didn't spare him a glance, just kept rummaging around for his jeans.

"I thought you were different-" he said as he finally found his clothes and started putting them back on.

"I don't-"

Steve whirls around as soon as the waistband is over his hips. "I thought you were fucking different. Preaching about saying fuck you to society's expectations."

Fuck, there was the sting of tears behind his eyes. He actually thought... "But here you are spouting-" he whips his button-up off the ground and starts putting it on. Eddie's mouth was open, doe brown eyes huge as he looks up at him from the floor. "-the same inane shit as those jocks you love to hate. I can't believe I thought-" he cuts himself off and busies his hands with the buttons, mad at Eddie, and even more mad at himself. How could he expect anything else from an alpha? Turns out they're all knotheads after all.

"Wait, what-"

"Save it. I don't wanna hear it." He paused buttoning his shirt to pinch the bridge of his nose. Don't cry, don't cry, don't give him the satisfaction of hurting you.

"No, I-"

"I said save it!" Steve snapped, breaking into an omegean growl, voice rumbling with the thunder of a pissed off omega. Voices like these were normally reserved for those hurting someone's pack or pups, and it shocked Steve to silence for a moment.

It worked as intended though, and Eddie turned paler, eyes growing wider in turmoil. "I don't- I didn't mean-!"

"Mean what? Mean to say that I'm not good for anything other than a knot-hole? Did you ever, ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe- I would ever-" he paused. "Am I just some pretty omega that needs taming so you can bend them into a skirt? Am I even a guy to you?" His voice did not break it did not.

Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe all he is is bullshit.

"No, I-"

Steve resumed buttoning his shirt with a hurried hand, cursing internally as they shook. Eddie seemed to get the memo and frantically looked around for some kind of bottom while trying to stand up. Fat chance of them continuing.

"I'm so sick, and tired of everyone's bullsh-" he cut himself off with a grimace.

"Look, whatever it is you think I think of you, it's-"

"Like what? It's not what you meant? That not all omegas want to be forced into a skirt and made to be barefoot and pregnant for their alpha?" He ignored the fact that he already had a gang of pups, and he reluctantly let them call him 'mom'.

"No- I mean, yes? I just-"

"Shut it. You knotheads are all alike. I swear- Jeff was wrong about you."

"J- what does he have to do with it??"

Steve whirled around and used his finger to punctuate his words, "Your friend said that you were different, that you were kind and sweet and caring." Steve was getting closer, and his finger was dangerously close to Eddie's chest. He could feel the heat coming off the alpha. "That it didn't matter I was a guy and omegean. He said-" Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Nevermind; it doesn't matter what he said cause he was wrong. God, you're such a fucking asshole."

With that, Steve turned around and stormed out of Eddie's bedroom. He could see the other man squawk and fumble with the clothing in his hand.

"I'm not-" Eddie called out, "Well, maybe I did but-"

Steve slammed the front door open. Dramatic? Maybe. But man he was pissed as hell and it felt good to hear the 'bang!' of the door hitting the side of the trailer. He spotted Max across the lot and cursed his luck. Of course she had to see that.

He must've paused, because suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and he didn't even think before his body reacted. The growl that ripped from his throat could be heard just as much as the gnash of his teeth coming down in a hard bite.

His face must've been something fierce, and he watched as Eddie tumbled backward clad only in a pair of plaid boxers. Steve's plaid boxers. Fuck. He must not have grabbed them in his rush. Eddie clutched his wrist when his scrambling body found its balance.

"Don't ever talk to me again - I don't want to hear or see your ignorant ass ever again." He growled. Eddie did have a cute ass. Tiny, but cute. "Rot in hell, Eddie Munson.

He turned around before his brain could recognize the look of tears starting to form and stormed to his car. He hit the gas in reverse and entertained the idea of hitting the prone alpha. No, he couldn't protect the kids in jail. As he sped off, he made eye contact with Max and saw her face morph into something scary. He was raising that alpha right.

If he had stopped to look, he would've seen Max marching over to Eddie in the review mirror.

omega steve who hates all the feminization surrounding male omegas. no, he doesn't want to wear dresses or skirts, he doesn't want his hair long and feminine, and he's going to punch the next asshole who says they'll make a "good housewife" out of him. he's a man, designation be damned, and he wants to be treated like one.

so when he hooks up with alpha eddie for the first time and he starts spouting the same bullshit as every other small minded idiot, steve hisses and pushes eddie off of him and immediately goes on a rant that's fueled by years long frustration.

poor eddie, who's never been with *any* omega before this, is at a loss.

[vexx-the-egg]

Laios is absolutely that kid at the sleepover who's the only one awake and won't stop asking you if you've ever wondered what human flesh taste like.

[hinamie]

completely innocuous vash sheet :) fr practice

[evamacdesigns]

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Call, believe, receive—He will answer!🙏🏾🫶🏾

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