#like my dude we just started getting this kind of content in my teen + adult life

[mieczyhale]

@gay-jewish-bucky IT REALLY FUCKING IS. No matter what if it’s a canon gay couple it’s just not going to be good enough for the exact same people who complain about wanting more gay rep. Part of getting gay rep is accepting that we’re going to get rep for all kinds of gays, all kinds of relationships, all levels of relevance - not just the kind that some people want or deem acceptable.

We finally have what is, in my opinion, a pretty well balanced canon queer ship that isn’t just ~hints and eye contact~, that isn’t squeaky clean, that have meaningful conversations and show love and affection like it’s not a big deal. It’s treated on equal levels to any straight ship on the show and I think that’s a breath of fresh goddamn air tbh.

I know people are always going to complain, but this topic has gotta be one of the most annoying and most exhausting ones. People should be happy we get any kind of lgbtqa+ rep, and that that rep is getting not just more diverse over the years but better too. There’s never going to be Perfect Queer Representation and to bitch and hold out for it?? To nitpick the fuck out of every ship?? Why would you, y’know??

[smoochhyuka]

Throupling with 01z

this is canon y'all I was there

○o。content warnings! SFW, kinda suggestive at the start, fem!reader, polyamory (Chanseok are also romantically dating each other), this is kind of a summary or an imagine?? of how reader and Chanseok started dating (formatting's all over the place), light drinking, I intended to write smut but for some reason this turned fluffy and cute, edited for spelling

Sungchan and you met at the gym, since the two of you were often the only ones left to train at the late hours, you quickly started to talk and become friends. It didn't take long for him to introduce you to his best friend, who only occasionally (and begrudgingly) tags along as well.

You've developed a crush on the taller one right from the get-go: his open yet soft personality, his cute smile and the tight body, his delinquency but playfulness during training, are all aspects that make him incredibly charming. These thoughts definitely didn't leave as you met Eunseok, but you started to question them, as the more reserved but secretly hilarious brunette entered your life as well.

Not only did he start to join you almost every time, but he also begins to flirt with you, although they're mostly framed like jokes. The worst and most confusing part about this is that he'd do the same to Sungchan, sometimes even reusing old pick-up lines, making you two stunned at his shamelessness.

At first, the dirty blonde would ignore said cheesy comments, only apologizing to you on his friends' behalf for the more vulgar ones, regardless whether it was directed to you or at himself. After a while though, especially as he noticed how you grew fond of them, sometimes even rebutting with something even more filthy, he's openly showing his jealousy.

"You know she's mine, stop trying, dude."

"Y/N, you know he likes you, stop feeding his ego."

"I introduced you to each other, and now you're both abandoning me."

Eunseok would, especially after the last one, throw his arm around the other male, usually demeaning him with an embarrassing pet name, such as "my big baby" or "this little prince", and tell him how he's always going to be the brunettes number one. This display of close affection seems to be normal to them, even if it's meant as a joke (because you believe everything that leaves Eunseok's mouth is unserious), it still leaves you confused about the type of relationship the two men have, especially after seeing how red Sungchan's ears get afterward.

After a few months of training together, with you trying to navigate your conflicted and confused feelings towards both, while still questioning their sexual orientation, they invite you to go watch a movie together that you all have been looking forward to for months now. "We can finally take you on a proper date now." Eunseok tells you after hugging them goodbye, a sincere looking smile on his face instead of a playful grin. Sungchan acts differently too, he doesn't chime in, laughing or disagreeing as usual, he just nods and waves goodbye, with a flat, anxious-looking smile.

You couldn't sleep that night, as well as the following one. "We"? "Date"? "Finally"? "Proper"? This whole sentence left you more perplexed as ever. Of course, you have been weirdly crushing on both, and the sexual tension was almost suffocating you by how thick it was, but you couldn't believe that not only were the two of them seriously interested in you, they also seem to be okay with courting you at the same time, instead of competing for your attention.

Although your whole body was riddled by anxiety as you meet them in front of the cinema, the whole evening turned out to be incredibly fun, having laughed, talked and goofed around a lot, probably disturbing the other visitors.

The two men arrived together by car, and offer to drive you home. You're innocently debriefing the movie during the car ride, making fun of the teens who were sitting in front of you for their reactions. "That's my place!" you say after a while of giving directions, sitting next to Sungchan in the passenger seat. He just nods, pulling over to stop the car in front of your apartment. All of a sudden, the air feels heavy, seeing a rather emotionless expression on Eunseok's face through the rearview mirror, who's looking over at Sungchan. He swallows hard, before turning his face over at you, but not looking into your eyes. "How..." he starts, but interrupting himself to clear his throat, "What did you think, about, you know, today?" He starts to play with the strings of his hoodie, ignoring the burning stare of the brunette. "I enjoyed it, a lot." You answer truthfully, holding your breath, not daring to question their sudden switch in behavior. Your heart pounds against your chest, picking up on Sungchan's fidgeting by playing with the sleeves of your jacket as well. Finally, he raises his head to look at the man in the back, big eyes communicating something to Eunseok that you don't understand yet. "Y/N." the brunette says through his breath, "Would you like to meet us regularly, like this?" Both men, who have been looking at each other the entire time, now look at you, expectantly. The confusion is literally written all over your face, lost for words, unsure what to answer. Of course, they catch on, being aware about the ambiguity of their words. "Let me be more straightforward" Sungchan takes all the courage he could gather, breathing out heavily before taking Eunseoks hand in his, squeezing it tightly, "Would you like to date us? Us both?"

You finally let out the breath you've been holding the entire time. Even though you probably should feel more nervous now, you almost feel a little bit relieved by this revelation. Especially since this sounds... nice. You like both of them individually, having spent a fair amount of time with them one-on-one, but you equally enjoy being a trio. Still, even though some of your questions, that have been racing through your head for months, have been answered, new ones just formed as well. You timidly look at both, before taking off your seatbelt, both visibly tensing up. "Let's talk about this in my apartment, please." you ask quietly, "This is not the right place, I think." A small smile on your face, giggling as the two of them also let out their breath loudly, just as you did a minute ago.

The walk-up to your apartment is silent, both men didn't stop holding each other's hand until you close the door behind them. You feel butterflies in your stomach at the sight of these two tall men supporting each other silently like this.

Sharing a bottle of wine, the three of you stay up until 4am just talking about their relationship, what they expect or want from you, as well as about your feelings and desires. You find out that they've known each other for eight years, slowly but surely creating a strong bond that connects them more deeply, but they didn't have the courage to face these feelings until about a year ago, a few months before Sungchan met you. They describe how meeting you was like finding the final piece to a puzzle. You all start to tear up eventually, you have never felt this loved before, and you have never seen a deeper love than the two of them share for each other. Of course, you agree, leaving them grinning from ear to ear. You rather boldly press kisses onto their lips as well, reinforcing your agreement, and the three of you fall asleep in your bed, chaotically entangling your limbs.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Something I really appreciate about your writing is that you make the kids feel like actual teenagers. I have to ask, how do you get the characterization down when your writing? It's something I struggle to do, even when I go back to the original source.

Going back to the original source is a good start. Characterization goes deeper than simply ‘this character is nice’ or ‘this character is funny.’ Let’s look at Izuku for example. He’s kind and smart, but so are several other students. Something specific to him is that he doesn’t have much of a sense of humor; he doesn’t tell any jokes and rarely laughs at those made by others. Compare this to someone like Uraraka, who occasionally makes teasing comments about her friends, versus Sero or Mina who make jokes at the expense of their classmates pretty often. Back to Izuku, this fact about him contributes to a general sense of his social awkwardness, which my writing interprets in a few additional ways. I feel like his lack of humor and awkwardness would extend to trouble with nicknames, giving or receiving, further evidenced by his struggling in canon to call Tsuyu by the nicknames she wants to be called by. Kacchan on the other hand is out of habit, which combined with his issues visualizing One for All as a part of himself early on indicates he has a hard time breaking habits once he’s set on them. Even the fact that it took him so long to realize that he could adopt a kicking fight style is more evidence of this. And then a reoccurring feature in my fics is that Izuku isn’t a touchy-freely person. There’s not much evidence in canon for this, except that despite him and his Mom being close, they don’t touch often. This might not actually be the case, but that’s part of where my idea came from, and it fits back into that awkwardness. Little things like that can say a lot about a character and how they approach different situations.

As for writing teenagers in general, a common mistake i see in both fic and original content is the assumption that all you need to write believable teenagers is to throw in a bunch of modern slang and references. Think Riverdale, bad crack fics, and 90s anti-drug PSAs. Not only is this often handled poorly (incorrect slang use or misjudged references) it also quickly dates the writing. Memes can take years to reach big names in the entertainment industry, and then it takes another few years for a movie featuring those memes to come out. By then, the meme is dead and cringe. In this day and age, memes can have a much shorter shelf life, living and dying within a week. Even if you release an fic chapter during the peak of a meme’s life cycle, it’s only going to be funny to the people who read it then and there; everyone who jumps on the fic later will just cringe. And there’s no way to tell which ones with have the staying power of something like a rickroll or a classic vine.

The solution: don’t do this. Avoid overusing slang and meme speak, and instead implement more general/timeless dialogue. Slang like ‘dude’ has been in the lexicon long enough that it feels normal, and while ‘mood’ and ‘vibe’ are fairly new, they aren’t as obtrusive as ‘bae’ which is falling out of style, or ‘boomer’ which references a specific group of people. Basically, the more general and common, the better. And keep the time period of your story in mind; MHA for example takes place at least a century in the future, why would the kids of that era still be complaining about boomers? Teenagers still act immaturely sometimes and make jokes, but try and find the humor in the specific situation of the story rather than quoting something else. Teens are also more openly casual than adults. Teasing, touching, maybe saying something rude or inappropriate. One simple way to convey casual speech is to use more contractions; i.e. ‘can’t’ instead of ‘cannot’ or ‘we’re gonna’ instead of ‘we are going to.’ This is my advice for all dialogue: read it to yourself outloud and ask if it sounds like something a real person would actually say. Exaggeration is also good. ‘My life is over!’ when their crush doesn’t like them back, or a big group groan at a pop quiz.

As for the internal experience of being a teenager, the thing i remember most about being that age in the tension between suddenly being expected to be ready for things and take care of myself when i didn’t feel ready, but still being treated like a dumb child in other ways i thought i was ready for. You start understanding more things when you get older and want people to take you seriously as a result, but you’re also insecure about the things you don’t understand and maybe overcompensate. In short, being a teenager comes with a lot of confusing, frustrating changes, some of which are absolutely unfair, but there are a few you genuinely bring upon yourself.

Hope this helps you get started. If not, or you have other questions, the ask box is always open.

[castlebyersafterdark]

Do you think the byler fandom being majority female was a part of the reason why there is such a large backlash to spicy bylerism? I feel like if there were more gay and bi dudes, there'd be more tolerance and understanding of male sexuality beyond the cute romantic side of things. Also, I don't know the makeup of straight girls vs. lesbians vs. bi girls on here, but I'd imagine some lesbians might be a bit uncomfy with explicit sexual topics related to byler

Hmmmm I wouldn't necessarily go with that as the reasoning. We have to acknowledge statistics and traditional fandom demographics - fandom spaces where things like fanart and fanfic are the focus have kind of always skewed female? Am I incorrect? But those are the things I sought out in fandom, the art and the writing, creative outlets (alongside fighting with people on reddit and twitter haha which I don't do anymore!!)

Look at Steddie for example. There are currently 28k fics out of 94k Stranger Things fics. Around 29% of the fics in the fandom are that pairing. And almost a third of those fics are rated E. Wow!! Compare Byler. 11.5k fics. Only a mere 6% of the fics are rated E. I'm going to assume that the Steddie fandom is predominantly female as well as the Byler fandom????

I think it's an age/generation thing to be honest. I could be very well wrong. Unsure why the Byler fandom does skew lower, and that's totally fine, but from my observations, the people I've seen the most vocally anti-sex in media and in fandom tend to be teens/early 20s. Even if I know a bunch of Byler fans are older, but the vocal ones have skewed younger. Could be just what I've personally witnessed, but anyone let me know if I'm off base here?

And also the silly mindset that also coincides with the age trending possibility - with Byler being younger characters and the current backlash against all of that which was never present in the past. Not to bring up a fandom we all probably want to forget, but the HP fandom was huuuge for years, right? Those were high school age characters, infamously with tons of E rated content, to excess. A personal note, I got into fandom stuff through my older sister, and HP and anime were her big things. I know some of the fandom lore haha.

I do think if there were more bi and gay dudes who were vocal and into fanart and fic (we are out here though!! we just may not announce it! I sometimes played neutral over the years!), that strong personal convictions might combat the anti-sex and spicy or E rated content contentious people. That's why I'm glad to have started over and started fresh and honest here. Because I'm gained a backbone in this fandom now? I'd love for some silly anti person to try to tell me about myself, using my own sexuality against me when they're supposedly propping up a gay couple as a hobby interest through a fandom, but judging those who are interested in authenticity and the full spectrum of what relationships and 'shipping' means in fandom. Like. How dare. Hahaha.

To be honest, I'd just delete the comment or ask and they wouldn't get a chance at attention.

[katsettee]

Greetings! I love your art so dang much!! May I ask your headcanons on the LU boy’s ages?

Totally don’t feel pressured, just curious <3

Have a dandy day!

~🦋🤠

Thank you! I have been thinking really hard about this for a while but I think I have my answer.

This is all purely headcanon and how funny I think it would be for their dynamics and relationships.

The ages themselves are kind of fuzzy, but age order in my mind from oldest to youngest goes:

Time(ofc), Twi, Sky, Warriors, Hyrule, Legend, Four, Wild, and finally Wind.

In my mind, Time and Sky have experienced the most time between their last adventure and the crossover, Time obviously because he is just a whole ass adult married man now and Sky because I would like to think he has gained some responsibility and has started the establishment of Hyrule. I would put Time at mid 30s and Sky mid 20s.

I see Twi as significantly older than the others but with little desire to take charge, seeing as he has no experience in leadership to any capacity, but is the ultimate big brother in late 20s. I also see him as being much older than the others during his adventure.

Wars is also older during his adventure, like dude is a captain in the military, he’s been mature enough for long enough to get to where he is. This is where I get fuzzy with ages, but I would put Wars at 24/23.

This is where my headcanons really get the best of me, but I’m obsessed with the idea of Hyrule being older than Legend. I am all about the “Legend feels guilt for the state of Hyrule’s world” and “Hyrule looks up to The Hero of Legend” ideas but what I really love is complex emotions and Hyrule looking towards Legend, the hero that he can only hope to be, and realizing that its never been more than a broken child forced to think like a survivor. I view Legend as just barely pushing adulthood at 18/19 and Hyrule being 21/22. Their dynamic as two people who could only conjure the ideal image of the other (Legend saving his world for the ideal future and realizing it all falls to ruin anyways + Hyrule trying to do anything in order to live up to the “legendary” previous hero) and being ultimately disappointed by the other is fascinating to me, but I like to think they value each other without the title of hero eventually and are quite close because of that connection.

I’m going to be honest I know the least about Four, seeing as I have yet to really invest much time with his games and character, so I’m just going along with him being a comfy 18 for no particular reason. So sorry to all the Four fans but I would like to hear other people’s ideas.

Again here’s some very biased headcanons, but I like to think Wild quite literally JUST defeated Calamity Ganon and is still at that (1)17 age that we see in the game. I love the LU comic but the Wild I like to include in my works is very much an immature teen, not the angsty sad man. My preference of Wild portrayal is HEAVILY influenced by critbit and it will always be that way tbh. Additionally, Wild and Twi being the most “sibling” siblings in the group just appeals to me and putting them at a similar age gap to myself and my own siblings is just funny to me.

Finally you have the kid brother Wind, who I have such a hard time assigning an age to. His age gap is significant enough that he is much different from Wild, but I would also like to think that some time has passed since his adventure. I would like to put him at the 16 year old range, but if I’m being honest it should probably be more towards the 13-14 range- so I will probably change my portrayal of him a bit to reflect that in any upcoming content.

I am super on the fence about this and since these are fictional and very undefined characters I am mostly fine with sliding the ages up and down for enjoyment, but I suppose this is my personal view on what I think is in line with the content that I personally create. I probably will not even follow this super accurately if I’m being perfectly honest.

Thank you for the ask!

[katatonicimpression]

Bobby/Romeo, you’ve probably talked about them before but I don’t remember

Oooh so i actually really like this. And, like, in a way I dont ship it - I don't make or consume fan content for it - but I really like what Vecchio and Orlando did with it. I think it's a strong storyline.

Because I'm petty and my brain is weird, I'm gonna format this by responding to objections:

A) The age thing/is this problematic?

So, Romeo was time displaced teen!Bobby's boyfriend. Canonically, when they sent the teens back to the past, they wiped their memories with one exception - bobby was allowed to retain his memories of being out as a teen, as a treat. I believe the intention here was just to make it a little less depressing, but it opened a possibility that Vecchio noticed. Present-day bobby does remember dating Romeo - he now has an adolescent crush on a character who is actually a viable romantic interest.

Romeo was late teens when we first saw him. Vecchio's comic takes place "nebulous sliding timeline" years later, but in the real world was about 7 years afterwards. On top of this, Vecchio added a line where Romeo says he was caught up in some time travel shenanigans of his own, and has aged an additional 10 years. This puts him in his 30s, the same vague age as Bobby.

Some people object to this on principle. The trope of rapidly aging a character to make them sexually viable is absolutely a thing in comics (think Layla Miller and Magik and how they both jarringly oscillate between being young children and sexualised young women. Or even think about Synch and Talon, and how they wrote an in universe reason for him to physically age, because they thought it would seem weird if he was still physically a teenager - which is bad writing but I concede it's less viscerally creepy than the magik and Layla stuff). The objection is basically that the aging up of an underage character to make them a viable love interest is creepy and weird - and I do pretty much agree with that.

Like, if someone wanted to age up an existing kid character like Gabby just to put her romantically with an adult, I would be right there with you saying that this is fucked up. So, yes, point granted.

However, not only would Romeo have been well into his 20s even without that 10 year boost, more importantly this is not an example of a pre-existing dude just being plucked out of his life and warped into a love interest role for bobby. He's a character who literally only exists to be a love interest for bobby. On top of that, weird time travel hijinks were always on the table with this. And I think that does change the situation. It's not "let's take this kid and age him up", it's "this couple transcends spacetime."

Idk maybe I could have explained that better, but the way I see it, this is a trope that you should watch out for, this particular case is not really a problem.

B) Wait, you're saying Romeo is more of a plot device than a character? Isn't that bad?

Yes, he kind of is, and no it isn't bad.

So, all good characters are plot devices. Ok, yeah in big unending serialised things like comic books and soap operas, characters do start to exist independently of story writing. But, in terms of actually writing a story, the characters are what they bring to the story. That can be in a very utilitarian plot way, or in a more loose thematic way, or, hell, comic relief. Characters are their purpose in the story. They can be more than that, but a well-written character can be identifiable by their narrative/aesthetic purpose in a given work.

*gets down off of soapbox*

Romeo's main purpose is to be a love interest for Bobby, and specifically to be a love-interest with empathy powers for Mr Emotional Repression. He is someone for Bobby to feel things with, to be vulnerable with. He's there to open bobby up (in the first place with teen!bobby) and to be the person he lets in (metaphorically). This is what Vecchio is doing; Bobby initially responds to emotional anguish by running and reverting, then eventually reaches catharsis by breaking down in front of Romeo.

With Orlando, Romeo is there to very literally facilitate the plot, but also to once again reveal Bobby's vulnerabilities, this time in a less positive way. Through Romeo we see Bobby's weaknesses, both in his powers at the time and his psychological failings.

This is good. This is fun. This is why I like romantic storylines in my comc books. I like how they can be used to tell us things about the characters, I like how they can heighten the emotional stakes, and drive conflict and resolution. It's good.

C) Bobby should be with a pre-existing character

My biggest bobby ship is with St. John so idk if I have a leg to stand on here. But one of the things I kept seeing when people were complaining about Romeo coming back was "bobby should be with Hank" and "Bobby should be with Warren" and like... erm... no?

Specifically, it was always phrased as "bobby should be given a new permanent, endgame love interest" which I think is the problem. Shipping is so often about assigning two people to each other forever and ever, but that's not necessarily a thing that canon ever needs to be conerned about in comic book world. And certainly not something it needs to bother with all of the time.

What I wanted was a romantic storyline for Bobby, and I got that. Yes, you could write a storyline with a pre-existing character (e.g. st. john) but you can have a dedicated love-interest guy instead. The important thing is that you actually write it. So, fundamentally I don't think either Hank or Warren would ever actually be considered as love interests for Bobby by editorial, but even if they were, the thing you would need to do is actually write that narrative, and it's not currently there at all imo.

I just find this so silly and weird. Let bobby date some rando it's fine. What matters is whether the story is compelling in its own right.

D) Isn't this a step backwards?

One objection to the writing that I've seen is that by dating his teenage boyfriend, Bobby is basically regressing. This is a step backwards for him, and is bad for that reason.

I agree and disagree. Yes it's a regression, and also I'm kind of into it.

What I mean is that Orlando actually introduces a lot of codependency between Romeo and Bobby. Bobby is literally reliant on Romeo to physically exist, and Romeo is physically stuck somewhere he cannot survive without him. So, like, that's messed up. Also they argue, Bobby is still closed off, uncomfortable with how vulnerable he is. Romeo is kinda clingy, but how else could he possibly act in this situation.

It is deliciously fucked up. And it's using a superhero/sci-fi premise to exaggerate an emotional conflict, to paint the internal into the external. We love to see it.

Orlando didn't really dive into it, beyond having mild conflict between them at times. But I dunno I like drama. I was excited for their to be drama. And if this storyline gets revisited at some point, I kinda hope they lean into it.

E) Monogamy Reigns

This isn't a response to any specific thing I've seen but more a vibe that's floating about. I already mentioned that when people ship, they so often favour this idea of one true endgame pairing, and monogamy is usually the norm. Hell, even polyshipping is usually an ot3, with a set limited number of partners.

Bobby and Romeo's relationship is open, like many relationships between gay men are. They are melodramatically romantic, and they are open. I love this.

We have wiccan and hulkling for cutesy wholesome gays. We have Jean-Paul and Kyle for marriage and monogamy. It's important, to me personally, to also have queer men who don't operate that way. Open relationships are very commonplace for queer men and to me there is something implicitly homophobic about seeing these relationships as less. Hell, I am a very monogamous person myself and I still feel very strongly about this.

I think people have a tendency to not understand what Vecchio and Orlando were trying to show here, and sometimes to take the romance less seriously because of it (oh, it's just a casual thing) and, no, that's not it.

So, yeah, I like it. This was a lot of words to say I like the pairing.

[thesinglesjukebox]

SHABOOZEY - "A BAR SONG (TIPSY)"

Teen drinking is very bad.

[5.91]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: In 2014 this would be a Tumblr shitpost. A decade on, it's a full-on pop hit? I shouldn't be so charmed by something this lazy, but "A Bar Song" works because it's just effortful enough – it has actual hooks outside of simply singing J-Kwon rootsily, which is a lot more thought than most people would put into their novelty "Tipsy" riffs. Even if you didn't know anything about the golden era of St. Louis rap, this still works as a sturdy contemporary country sing-a-long – not to my taste necessarily, but compelling in its shtick. [6]

Scott Mildenhall: Meme plinking is very average. This would make a decent Britain's Got Talent audition, and perhaps that is a good framework for kickstarting a career full of more interesting work. There are signs of that in this content creation, but they're nullified by an inverted zaniness that offers neither humour or humanity. [5]

Alex Clifton: Here we have another viral TikTok country chorus, but Shaboozey scores better with me than Dasha did because "A Bar Song (Tipsy)" has more than just a chorus. There's even a bridge! Yes, it's stomp-clap-holler music which had its heyday about 10 years ago, but sometimes you just need a good stomping. I don't know if this is actually good, but it's a fun time, and that counts for something. [6]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: How did Shaboozey imbue “Tipsy” with so much sentimentality and heart? It’s not just the interpolation that makes this feel instantly familiar—Shaboozey’s vulnerability and working-class sensibility feel like the perfect palliative soundtrack to 2024 late-stage capitalism.  [8]

Taylor Alatorre: A strong and perhaps insurmountable contender for 2024’s “I Can’t Believe This Hadn’t Been Done Already” award. [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: One, here comes the two to the three to the four/dude makes getting tipsy sound like such a bore. [2]

TA Inskeep: Is this really that different from a legion of "we're all at the bar drinkin'" contemporary country hits? I guess it is in Shaboozey's cadences, but let's be honest, the "Tipsy" interpolation is wasted here. If this becomes a country radio hit, it'll be a delightful surprise, but that doesn't make it a particularly interesting record. [3]

Will Adams: I was barely a tween when J-Kwon's "Tipsy" hit the charts, but even then I recognized how well it captured the claustrophobic fun of a house party. Shaboozey's take is tempered vibes and ultimately a downer, like that voice on your shoulder reminding you of the hangover you're going to have the next day. [4]

Isabel Cole: Finally, a song about partying by someone who sounds like he has been to at least one actual party in his life! Even better: a song about drinking by a guy I’m absolutely willing to believe knows just how nasty the inside of your mouth tastes with a real hangover, the kind no amount of water or ibuprofen will help you white-knuckle through. The fact that this doesn’t sound like a good party somehow adds to the appeal; rather than exuberant or giddy, it sounds a little blurry, mumbled, weary, half-assed in a lived-in way, an ode not to nights out with friends or the communal ecstasy of the dance floor but to getting so shitfaced you can’t see straight. You can almost see him, glassy-eyed, stumbling on the way to the bathroom across the sticky floor. You can definitely hear him, in that moment when the music drops out, standing outside the bar as conversations loop around him, sidewalk unsteady beneath his feet, thinking dimly he should probably start heading home but realizing the party is merely moving elsewhere, and if he’s already in for a penny, well…. That last Good Lord sounds like it means fuck yeah, fuck it, and fuck me all at once, which is more or less how I remember the nights that reached that point, too. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: I bet you got some J-Kwon, you ain't got no Yeezy? YOU'RE GODDAMNED RIGHT WE DON'T. THIS SONG IS IMMORTAL. [10]

Joshua Lu: Empirical evidence that even the laziest samples can be overlooked if the song slaps enough. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[lansplaining]

As you seem to be the go-to person for Disk Horse, what your opinion on women being horny over mlm stuff and men being horny over wlw stuff? Like. On one hand, I do get there's a degree of fetishisation that can seep into the real world. On the other, as a dude, I've enjoyed a lot of danmei made by women, and slashfics by them too, and I know women who do the same for horny wlw art by men. And I don't really feel that there's anything with women enjoying mlm stuff, not even in a fetishtic way if it's done with an ability to acknowledge the root of it if that makes sense? IDK

am I!!! am I that!!! I think I just bully anons!!!! do not lay this burden on me!!!!

i don't fucking know, man, here's my way too personal take:

actually first i'm putting this under a cut so i can delete it if people get weird

i was a pre-teen in the 90s/early 2000s when "gay" was the universal synonym for stupid, and one day when I was 12 i was walking down the hallway in my middle school and thought "what if I liked girls?" and then I thought "oh, I'd get bullied so much I'd probably die," and proceeded to not think about it again for about a decade. queer content of any kind made me wildly uncomfortable for some mysterious reason, which wasn't really a problem because there wasn't that much of it. but then I got into anime (lol) and reading fanfiction, and one of the shows I really liked had a semi-canon M/M pairing that involved my favorite character, and my habit of avoiding M/M (or F/F, but again, not really a problem because lol where) fic suddenly became a lot harder to sustain, because there wasn't much else! so i tentatively started reading it. and i realize how utterly embarrassing it is to be like "reading M/M anime fanfic helped me work through my internalized homophobia as a pre-teen" but that is, sadly, exactly what happened.

which is all to say: i don't think we can make any assumptions about what people are doing or experiencing when they read and watch this stuff. maybe some people are being fetishistic and weird, and maybe it's warping their view of real-world queer people in a way that eventually causes them to act in materially harmful ways, but... a) i can't imagine that's happening all that often and b) anything short of that just feels like... who cares. let people enjoy what they enjoy, you just can't know what they're actually taking away from it

[thebonesofhoudini]

Honestly, family, I don't even listen to Hip-Hop like that anymore. I turned 40 two months ago and other than my old school 90s and 2000s shit, I have not really been interested in listening to new rap.

I don't feel like listening to rappers almost half my age rap about stuff they haven't really experienced. I can't relate to that.

Plus I grew up in the 90s, when we actually had serious rappers, and hip-hop was taken serious. It's hard to get into this new music when you grew up listening to Nas, Wu Tang, Biggie, 2pac, Mobb Deep, Jeru Tha Damaja, Gangstarr, Killah Priest, Brand Nubian, Outkast, Scarface, Snoop, Dre, Cypress Hill, E-40, etc. And at one point in my early 20s, I definitely carried myself like an elitist "Real Hip-Hop" backpacker who only listened to underground/independent rappers. And looked at graffiti magazines. And tried to be a B-Boy and breakdance at one point.

I actually started losing interest in HipHop in 2000s because of that. NY rap was dying in the mainstream, The South rose to prominence, and dare I say it, Rap started to get really dumbed down. And I've wasn't really feeling the negative content either.

I was collecting House and Techno records all throughout the 2000s. While collecting Hip-Hop vinyl and Funk, Soul, Reggae, Ambient, Drum & Bass, Jungle, IdM, etc.

I actually used to do both once upon a time. Between 2007-2008.

I would go and play in bars and clubs and play 90s hip-hop instrumentals mixed w/ downtempo and hip hop instrumentals. It was inspired by "Mushroom Jazz" by Mark Farina. The crowd I was playing for at time like that stuff liked it because it was something cool that you could talk to your lady to or have a conversation to or even rap over.

But then around this time, I started to get more interested in playing House Music and producing House Music. This was around the late 2000s when Blog House was taking over the internet and all of these DJs were popping up all over due to Serato and CDJs.

Let me tell you something even back then. Some people for as many people as there were that loved when I did house there were a lot of people too that got pissed off when I played it. They would say things like "play some Hip-Hop" like that's all Black People should be playing or listening to. Even back then, as much of a "Head" as I considered myself, I found that thought process so fucking ignorant. And these comments were coming from both Black ppl and White ppl.

Well now I am 27 years in the production game and 25 years in the DJ game.

I'm happy to say I'm still DJing and still making music.

Personally, I like House music because I can just vibe to it, chill to it, dance to it. Etc. And I don't really gotta think too much about it. Plus I'm kind of a goofy dude that doesn't like to take themselves too seriously and likes to dance, and that's the type of approach I have to my music. I feel it fits my personality more.

Recently I don't know. Between all the Rico/Fed cases, the stupid gossip and drama, the shootings, the killings, the constant negativity, the ignorance, all the all these fucking podcasts, these Peter pan syndrome ass dudes in their 30s and 40s, and all of these so-called rap "fans" that don't even take the rappers they listen to seriously, I am sooooo not interested in Rap/Hip-Hop anymore. Especially as much as I used to be interested in it when I was a teen and in my early 20s.

[sixhours]

bright spots - chapter 9

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Teen Words: 2.2k Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Marlene, canon divergence, hospital AU, medical stuff, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, vomiting, implied rape/sexual assault, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Joel

The days pass in a long string of blood draws, scans, and biopsies. Joel doesn’t pretend to understand it, but the procedures are relatively simple and painless, so he stands by, willing to take Ellie’s lead. She remains riveted by the process and asks the kinds of questions Joel wouldn’t think to ask but probably should. Sometimes the techs humor her, show her how the equipment works, even let her look through a microscope occasionally. Sarah always walked away from her doctor visits with a lollipop or a sticker for her trouble, but Ellie is content with a science lesson and an arm covered in dinosaur band-aids.

These procedures take a couple hours at most, and the rest of the time they’re left to their own devices. On this particular afternoon, he’s keeping an eye on her while she plays in the hall, spinning in her “spinny chair.”

“Not cleanin’ up your puke, kid,” he reminds her as she kicks off again, leveraging one hand on the wall to build up speed.

“As if, old man. I have an iron stomach.”

After much trial and error and application of the scientific process (Ellie’s words), she’s determined this particular chair spins the fastest for the longest. After enough spins, she’ll stagger over and flop onto the floor at his feet, breathing hard and riding the natural high that comes from being a human centrifuge.

Eventually she wanders back to the chair, climbs aboard, and kicks off again. He dozes. It’s not a deep sleep; more of a drift, something that happens now. The concussion and the stress have turned his sleep patterns inside out. The boredom doesn’t help. He only has two books, one old paperback he picked up on the road and the western Ellie found in the box of waiting room leftovers, and he’s read them both twice. He’s half tempted to crack open one of those romance novels, but he’ll hold out; Ellie would never let him hear the end of it.

When he blinks awake, she’s not there, and the chair is still.

“Ellie?”

No answer. His book slides from his lap to the floor and he walks toward the nearest room, peeks in. Nothing.

“Ellie?”

He’s brought back to a crowded supermarket, a much younger child, a panicky bird in his chest as he trawled the aisles looking for a familiar curly brown head and a bright purple windbreaker. He’d found her, of course, unharmed. The real tragedy would come a decade later, but at the time, those thirty seconds felt like the start of the end of the world.

“Ellie! Where the–”

He rounds the corner at the end of the hall and almost bowls her over. She frowns up at him.

“Jeez, dude–”

He’s breathing hard, heart pounding harder. “Was callin’ you.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know, but–”

“It’s my fault,” a guard pipes up, and Joel’s gaze snaps to her, a woman he hadn’t noticed in his panic. She’s young, couldn’t be more than thirty, in the usual fatigues, short dark hair and brown eyes. “I know the boss doesn’t want us getting involved, but–”

“So don’t,” Joel says, not-too-subtly inserting himself between them.

“Dude, don’t be an asshole. She’s cool,” Ellie says.

He turns on her, gives her a look.

“It’s fine,” the guard says. “I just…wanted to give her this.”

Joel narrows his eyes just as Ellie practically shoves him aside. “For me?”

“There’s a daycare on the other side of campus,” the woman says, shrugs, taking something out of her pocket. “We patrol there sometimes. Not much to see, but found these in a drawer…”

It’s a simple box of crayons, a big red 24 printed on the front. The box itself is dusty and faded but the wax inside looks brand-new. From the look on Ellie’s face, he’d think she’d been handed the keys to the kingdom.

“Sweet! Whoa, I’ve never seen them, like, new before. All the ones at my school were trash.”

Ellie opens the box and slides out a bright eggshell blue crayon. Without waiting, she darts across the hall to a blank section of wall and starts to draw on it. Joel opens his mouth to stop her, has a clear vision of Sarah doing the same exact thing when she was little, their freshly painted living room adorned with scribbles, remembers the reprimand that followed– we color on paper, not walls –but these sad, crumbling halls can only be improved in Ellie’s hands. 

What the hell , he decides. He lets her be.

“I have a kid,” the guard says softly, startling him out of his thoughts.

Joel’s jaw tightens. “Good for you.”

He’s using what Ellie likes to call his asshole voice but the woman doesn’t seem to notice or care, because she keeps talking.

“He’s only three. Lives back in the Tucson QZ…with my mom.”

He wants to say he didn’t ask, doesn’t care, grinds his teeth on the words. The woman looks up at him seriously and he shifts on his feet, eager for this conversation to end. She gestures toward Ellie, still testing her new crayons on the drywall.

“I’m grateful for her. For what she’s doing for us. My son…will grow up in a better world because of her.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, all he can think to say.

“You’re her father?”

He winces. Ellie doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t correct her. 

…not my daughter, sure as hell ain’t your…

“She’s mine,” he says, softening a little.

“Then you know,” she murmurs. “You understand. We’d do anything…to make it better. The sacrifice—“

“Would you let him do it?” he cuts her off flatly. “If it was your kid. Let him stay stuck in this hellhole for weeks with a buncha nurses stickin’ him? Testing him?”

“I–I don’t–”

“S’what I thought,” he scoffs, lip curling in a sneer. “Y’all love to talk about sacrifice ‘til it’s one of yours.”

The woman blinks, taken aback. Joel decides he’s had enough.

“C’mon, kid,” he says, going to Ellie and tugging lightly on her sleeve. “Sure this lady has…Firefly shit to get to.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, but she comes willingly enough.

“Oh! Thanks for these,” she says, holding up the box.

“It’s Lee,” the guard says, finding her voice again. “My name is Lee.”

“Later, Lee,” Ellie grins.

“Herrera!” a uniformed voice barks from down the hall. “ No hables con la rata de laboratorio. ”

Joel’s head snaps around. He’s heard this shit before, catches snippets of their conversations and bites his tongue. They think they’re being clever, but at this point he’s out of patience.

“ Ten cuidado, cabrón, ” Joel snarls.

The guard’s eyes go wide; almost as wide as Ellie’s, now watching him with rapt fascination, mouth hanging open.

“Dude–”

“Not now,” he mutters.

“ ¡Vete a la chingada ,” Lee fires back easily. “Enjoy the crayons. See you around, kid.”

Ellie

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Ellie hisses when they’re back around the corner.

Joel glances at her stonily as he urges them back to their room. “What was what?”

“Was that–was that Spanish ?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You speak Spanish? Since when?”

“‘Bout since I could speak,” he says, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. His headaches come and go, and normally she’d back off in the interests of letting him rest, but this new development is too good to let go just yet.

“How–when did you–are you, like, Mexican or something? Does Tommy speak Spanish, too?”

“M’not Mexican, and yeah, sure he does.”

“Why the fuck haven’t I heard it before?”

“‘Cause it’s rude to do what those assholes did back there.”

“Oh, sure, now you’re all Miss Manners,” she says, rolling her eyes. “What’d they say?”

“Nothin’ I’m gonna repeat.”

Ugh, he can be so fucking frustrating. He’s like one of those puzzles in the school rec room, more missing pieces than not. Just when Ellie thinks she’s got a handle on him, she learns something new. At this point it wouldn’t surprise her if he told her he used to be a traveling magician or a lion tamer or some shit.

“Well now you have to teach me,” she tries, nudging him.

“Oh yeah?”

He sinks into the chair in their room and looks at her with tired eyes.

“Yeah! How do you say ‘Joel is an asshole’?”

She grins. She’s needling him now, she knows, but she’s pretty sure he loves it. He sits back and looks at her with a smirk.

“ Joel es el mejor. ”

“Hole es el may-hor? Sounds like you’re the mayor.”

“Your pronunciation needs work,” he says drily.

“Dude, we have like, a million years to practice here. C’mon–”

“Tell you what,” he sighs. “When we’re back in Jackson…we’ll talk about it. Maybe we can find a book or somethin’. Think they have a library.”

She can’t help but notice how exhausted he looks. Does he ever fucking sleep? And now he’s wincing and rubbing his temples the way he does when he has a headache. She feels a sliver of guilt for ditching him earlier.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” she says. Then, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, she pulls out her new crayons. “These are so fucking cool. Think I’m gonna draw for a while.”

He nods, still pinching his brow.

“Y’know, if you wanted to lay down…I won’t, like, wander off or whatever.” He arches an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “I mean it, dude. I’ll stay put.”

“I’m fine, kiddo.”

She shrugs and returns to admiring her crayons. She wasn’t joking when she told him she’s never seen new ones before. The crayons at FEDRA school came in industrial bags, molding and rotted and worn to stubs, and they often had to sift through dead bugs and trash to find the right color. One time, Riley found a rat’s leg bone in hers. That was kinda cool, at least.

But these have points and edges and they even kinda smell good—earthy and sweet. There are so many colors to choose from, not mottled or dulled by time, and they’re all hers to do with as she pleases. It’s a fucking fortune.

Lacking paper, she goes to the box of old magazines and grabs one. The fresh wax color glides cleanly over the glossy pages, and Ellie finds herself sketching over old articles about fat burning (weird) and sex positions (weirder) and eyelash extensions (really fucking weird). When she gets bored with that, she doodles on the models in the pictures, adding flowers, mustaches, silly patterns on their eyes and cheeks and noses.

She watches out of the corner of her eye as Joel tries not to doze, snapping his head up every once in a while when he inevitably does. Finally, she closes the magazine and reaches over to nudge him on the shoulder, waking him.

“Dude, you’re gonna fall over and hit your head again. Go the fuck to bed.”

He rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah…alright.”

To her surprise, he gets up and shuffles over to his cot without argument.

“Wake me up if someone comes in, alright? I mean it.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, popping off a salute. This earns her a tired side-eye, so she relents. “I will. Promise.”

Within minutes, Joel is flat on his back and snoring.

Stubborn asshole , she thinks, but she’s biting her lip on a smile, can’t help but feel a rush of fondness. It’s unfamiliar the way everything else is lately, but…something about him saying it outright makes the unfamiliarity more bearable.

You’re with me. Alright?

She’s never been claimed like that. Never belonged to someone. She knows Joel would go to the ends of the earth to protect her, he’s even said he cares about her, but that’s…just Joel. She’s not even sure he knows he’s doing it half the time. And it’s not exactly the same as belonging.

She picks up another magazine and flips through the pages until she finds something interesting. Grabbing the crayons, she starts adding details, sketching lightly at first to try things, then layering on more color. She works with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, brow furrowed in concentration, and by the time she’s done, her hands ache with how tightly she’s gripped the wax sticks and her neck is stiff from bowing over the page. But she sits back and looks over the results with a sense of satisfaction.

The original photo–some ad for soap, from what she can tell, a sunrise over a field of flowers–is almost completely obscured by her drawing. The shadow of two figures on horseback set against the glow, surrounded by a mass of snaking vines and tendrils.

Mindful not to tear it, she rips the page from the magazine and tiptoes over to Joel’s cot, placing it on his chest for when he wakes up. An apology of sorts for sneaking away, or maybe a thank you for…everything else. She’s not sure.

When he wakes and finds the picture, he’ll look at it for a long time, and when he tries to talk he’ll get a little choked up, and she’ll make a dumb joke about his age to defuse the tension. He’ll say something like, “That’s real nice, kiddo,” and he’ll figure out how to hang it up in their room so the walls are a little less gray, and he’ll do the same thing with every single picture after that. And she’ll roll her eyes and mutter whatever and pretend it doesn’t mean everything.

[leatherbookmark]

ah but THAT ASIDE re: the rkg story itself, yayyyy koga backstory etc --

man, I Am Not Convinced.

(also hehehehehe it's called back door hhehehehehe okay anyway)

of course i do appreciate the blatant, in-your-face bold red font Homosexuality of my dear little boy going

about another man, A+ CONTENT I HAVE 零 COMPLAINTS, but the backstory part is hhhhho boy. mr akira hihihi belatedly realized he forgot to make koga a character outside of his super normal teenage infatuation with rei And It Shows.

like first of all as a lower middle class both parents working super mundane jobs koga truther i Scoff at the idea of salaryman+housewife adoring parents spoiled kid koga. and i mean, it's been a loooong while since i've read enst stories, so it might be just me, but even going by what i vaguely remember it just Doesn't Look Right.

because it kind of feels like koga really didn't have anything going on about him aside from rei. i was kinda eeeeeh back in. 2017? 2018? help me, when it was revealed that it was rei who kickstarted koga's rock life and before rei koga wasn't interested in it at all, because on one hand yyyyeah i guess it's more flashy if one (1) guy literally Changes His Life basically overnight, but no one's said you can't have koga already being an established guitar boy AND feeling strongly about rei anyway! perhaps precisely because he feels a connection between their Rock Souls. and this way he'd have a Past. we could also find out more about how he came by his passion for rock, and the answer to this question wouldn't be rei. INSTANT DEPTH

but instead i feel Potential in the contents of the text but a puzzling lack of effort from the text itself. koga says it himself that he's been spoiled, loved and given things before he even knew he needed anything -- okay, but why is he such a loner on top of being very survival of the fittest, if you can't keep up then either git gud or quit, being tossed off a building bungee jumping builds character tsundere, then? he's got strict standards, both for everyone else and for himself, and i just can't see that coming from someone who's always had everything. sure, you can still undergo a change in personality due to some unspecified Things Going On as a teen (duh!) but, yknow.

second, again with the "i didn't know what i really wanted because i was handed everything before i even realized i needed something" thing. also makes no sense to me! again, koga seems like a very passionate and driven guy, it makes no sense for him to just have no idea about what he wants. card battler tells us he has a card game past, so he Could get passionate and Gud at something even as a kid. also, someone with loving, normal parents would have at least a handful of friends, and those friends would broaden their horizons naturally, so even if you're indecisive as a person you're at least exposed to Things and Stuff. again, i don't buy it.

finally the, uh, the leon thing.

akira. my guy. my dude. my bro. what was that.

peak 'uh oh, it's too late to retcon now' moment, is2g. yknow, "i was happy basking in my parents' love until X happened, whereupon i found myself unloved and confused" would make sense if that X was the birth of a new baby, but koga is an only child, so... let... his parents' new obsession be... a dog... the same dog who's been living with koga ever since the game story started... and they got a dog because he uhhh let's say he was grown up enough not to need babying! we're talking about a teenager. the world has never heard of teens groaning that their parents treat them like babies and dote on them despite them being Too Old For That, nay, it is a nonexistent phenomenon. ?????

again it just doesn't add UP akira do you read the stuff you write. you don't get to the point where you're desperately looking for someone who'd love you AND something to do with his life because your parents got a dog. source trust me dude!! i know something about being (barely) Provided For but not Raised!!

imo it would've made more sense if koga's parents were, as per my obviously correct personal headcanon, incredibly busy working people who also don't know much about raising children. because like -- he's fed, clothed, he goes to school and presumably does kid things there, it's all good, right? well, not quite, because his parents had no time to take him to the playground, so he's badly socialized and doesn't get along with other kids well. ah well! many such cases, let's move on.

it would ALSO explain why he's so ride or die for His People -- he doesn't make friends easily, so when he finds someone, they're Important and Special. also, leon! leon is obviously koga's, he's his Brother, Comrade and Companion, this is NOT how you get about a dog your parents bought, who's nice and loving but like, you need something more! i personally like the idea that they got koga a dog when he knew he'd be going to yumenosaki and living alone, so that he'd be responsible but also simply have a friend.

like, again -- everything can be explained or spun in a fun way, even koga's passion for life beginning and ending with rei sakuma, but you gotta want to do something with it! enst is such a nonsensical story sometimes, we have multiple cult children, many tragic backstories, and then you give me koga who's Like That because it, eh, just happened, middle class, parents got a dog, yknow how it is? ( ˘︹˘ )

BUT ALSO IN GENERAL RE: REIKOGA AAAAAA GOD

the event song was mid and the outfits were mid as well and only that one new album song and adonis's solo were kinda good but but B U T

my stupid lads are so cute :')

ok back to my *checks hand* stupid lads who are pirates and trying to have a Conversation

[drivergemini]

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting. 

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group. 

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up. 

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part. 

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born. 

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage. 

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas. 

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

- 

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk. 

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner. 

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated. 

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies. 

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack. 

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad. 

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked. 

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around. 

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye. 

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

[ceruleanchillin]

When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

A:

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

C:

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

E:

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)

[starkerhead]

A Lil’ Bit of Sugar

fill for @spooky-starker-week Bingo 2021: Trick or Treat Summary: “Peter, I dare you to go trick or treating at one of those pompous assholes’ mansions.”  Content: Starker, fluff Word Count: 1.2K Read on AO3 ♡: @momothequeen134 @winterthal @sarcastich @lemonpeter @bluestarker @babybatscreationsv2 @90minsofscreentime 

“Aren’t you guys a little old to be trick or treating?”

“It’s called ‘rebelling against social norms’,” MJ explained. “We’re protesting against the notion that childhood ends at the cusp of teenagehood, which punishes teens for indulging in any kind of innocent fun.” 

The man at the doorstep stared at her incredulously, then glanced at Ned and Peter, who were behind her. All three were clad in costume, holding pumpkin-shaped candy buckets like they were five and not fifteen. 

“Uhh, yeah, you’re not getting any candy from me. Find another house to raid.”

MJ flinched as the man slammed the door in her face. 

“What’s his deal?” she said in her usual deadpan voice.

They got back onto the pavement, continuing along the row of decorated townhouses. Cheers and laughter pierced the air as children ran in the streets. The Halloween decorations along the houses illuminated the darkness, the orange and white lights twinkling in their periphery. 

“We still had a good run,” Ned piped up, shaking his bucket which rattled with a good handful of mini candy bars. “Some of them were too polite to refuse.” 

MJ shook her head.

“Not good enough. We gotta go big, my dude. I’m not going home without a full bucket.” 

Peter was quiet as MJ and Ned continued to discuss their candy strategies. He examined the decorations of each house they passed by, taking note of the tacky displays and the ones he actually liked. One house had some particularly good-looking jack-o-lanterns, which he silently praised. It was nice to just bask in the moment, listening to his friends chattering while walking around town in a Spiderman costume. He felt like a kid again. 

As they turned a corner onto the next street, Peter yelped when he walked right into Ned. He was about to tell him off for stopping abruptly when he looked up and gaped at the sight in front of him: a long row of mansions, covered in the most extravagant decorations possible. Houses covered in neon lights and cobwebs, their yards filled with zombies and skeletons. Mechanical screams and cackles echoed in the distance. 

“Howard Beach,” MJ muttered. “Rich people territory.” 

There was silence as they took in the spectacle. A group of kids approached a coffin on one of the lawns, shrieking as an automated corpse burst from inside. 

“Well, you wanted the big guns, right?” Peter said. “Here’s your chance. I’m sure some of them could spare some full-size candy bars.”

MJ snorted. “Peter, I dare you to go trick or treating at one of those pompous assholes’ mansions.” 

“Maybe I will.”

“I’m serious, you know. I will hold you accountable.”

“And I am, too. Just pick a house and I’ll do it.” 

MJ surveyed the houses in front of them, contemplating for a moment. 

“That one.” She pointed towards the distance at the largest, most expensive-looking mansion on the street. 

Peter raised his eyebrows. 

“The only house that’s not decorated?” 

MJ nodded, her gaze taunting him. 

Maybe it was the superhero costume that gave him the courage, because before he knew what he was doing, Peter started towards the house. 

He didn’t realize how hard his heart was thumping until he stopped at the entrance. Through the gate, the edifice towered above him, and he suddenly found himself wanting to back away. It was a beautiful piece of architecture, with a double staircase leading up to the door and a goddamn fountain in the garden. 

How do people just live like this?

He sucked in a breath and buzzed the gate. Ned and MJ giggled behind him, adding to his nerves. 

To Peter’s surprise, the light of the buzzer turned green and the gate slid open. Peter looked back and flashed a grin of triumph at his friends, whose mouths were wide open. 

“See? I told you I could do it.” 

As he walked up the steps, a man appeared at the front door. Peter’s fingers trembled, and he thought of turning back, but MJ and Ned were watching him. 

And then he was standing at the doorstep, staring up at the most beautiful man he had ever seen. 

The man leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. He looked to be in his fifties, his dark beard speckled with gray. He peered at him over his glasses, his piercing brown eyes making Peter want to shrink away. 

“What is it?” The man said, his tone firm. 

Peter’s mouth was suddenly dry. His grip on his pumpkin bucket tightened, making him recall what he was doing there in the first place.

“Uhh, trick or treat?”

The man cocked an eyebrow, and Peter swore a smirk was tugging at his lips. 

“Seriously?” his voice was amused. Peter could feel his cheeks heating up.

“I’m being very serious, sir.” 

The man stepped away, and for a split second Peter thought he was going to shut the door in his face. 

But he disappeared inside his house for several minutes, the front door still wide open. Was it an invitation for him to step inside? No, he probably shouldn’t go inside a stranger’s house. But what if he was being rude? 

Peter snapped back to reality when the man reappeared in front of him. His eyes widened at the sight of what the man had in his hands: a pile of full-size candy bars, and not just the common Hershey's bars either, but the expensive stuff, the fair-trade, luxury brand chocolates filled with caramel and ganache and everything else that Peter never dared to reach for on the shelves. The man dumped them into Peter’s pumpkin bucket, weighing it down with the sheer heft of the chocolates. 

“I scavenged what I could from the house. You can probably tell I don’t usually get trick or treaters, so it’s what I have on hand.”

Peter cleared his throat, his gaze wavering as he struggled to process what was happening. 

“N-no, yeah, it’s- it’s good. This is- this is amazing, actually. Thank you.”

He looked up to see the man smiling at him. Peter suddenly felt naked.

“Say hi to your friends for me.”

Peter turned to find the pair half-concealed behind a bush. They ducked their heads when they realized the man was looking at them, making Peter laugh. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Sorry for bothering you. It was- it was just a stupid dare. We don’t usually, you know, knock on rich people’s doors.”

Tony chuckled. 

“It’s alright, kid. Happy Halloween.” 

“You too, sir! Thank- thank you. So much.” 

Peter’s feet were wobbling as he descended the steps back to where his friends were waiting for him. 

“Dude, your face is bright red,” MJ said.

Peter ducked his head down, ignoring the comment as he showed his bucket to them. 

“Woah. I thought rich people were stingy,” Ned said.

“Apparently this one isn’t.” 

“Well, Peter, I have to say I underestimated you,” MJ said. “You’re clearly a master of seduction.”

“Shut up,” Peter said, turning away to hide the smile growing on his face. 

As they made their way back, MJ and Ned were once again locked in a heated discussion, while Peter hung back behind them. He kept his eyes on his feet, lost in thought as his brain kept wandering back to the mysteriously generous stranger with the sparkling brown eyes. 

He looked down at his bucket, his fingers ghosting over the bars of chocolate, the ones that had just been in the man’s hands moments ago. 

He wondered if he would ever see him again.