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afewproblems · 8 months

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Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask".

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?'

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?"

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?"

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged".

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window.

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?"

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night.

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack.

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb.

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street.

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake.

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?"

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything.

If anything, Eddie has more questions.

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot.

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue.

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?"

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?"

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone.

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him".

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt".

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.

And Wayne would never hurt him.

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse".

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…"

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?"

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday".

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos.

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end.

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again.

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!"

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers.

"Dustin?"

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

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rikkivoid · 1 year

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winter kiss

#bakudeku #LAST NIGHT i had a dream that bkdk went on a first date and it was so cute #it made me wanna write a fic BUT IDK HOW JFHDJHF #SO I WILL JUST TALK ABOUT IT HERE #(also i rlly wanted to draw deku in fluffy warm clothes)#ANYWAY the concept of deku asking bkg on a date and them both just indulging in a moment of normalcy that's just.. simple and tender..#MAKES ME RLLY EMOTIONAL #bc they never really get the chance to just be normal teenagers #and the world they live in has become so dangerous and so chaotic #SO BOTH OF THEM GO ON THIS DATE and they have a nice time #but it's bittersweet too because they know they might not get another moment like this #bc they never know what tomorrow will bring #SO IT'S A HAPPY MOMENT but one that is fleeting #like snow :)#ANYWAY if u read all of that thank u JFHJFHF #rikkivoid #mystuff

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purpleleafsyt · 8 days

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From my fic, Inclarity :>

#purplearts #chonny jash #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj soul #cj mind #cjshipping #cw shipping #supernova #<- the reason I'm adding those is #1. the fic itself is up to interpretation/is vague about their relationship/is qpr adjacent #and 2. this was for a supernova event organized by. me on Twitter!! mind/soul day ;>#based on the eclipse day!!#bloodmoon is the 27th so expect something from me then :D #anyways. ive always wanted to draw scenes from my own fics #because who else is going to do it smh smh #plus it's really cool to see my writing turned to life through my own creation yknow #i might do other scenes too like LUVTH and BTNYCI have some good drawable moments in them

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bongo-clash · 1 year

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Even when you don't know what it is your job knows what it is

DP/DC week prompt: There was something off about them

'Danny Phantom, alleged several-thousand year old ghostly entity, has a feeling something’s not quite right with Captain Marvel, alleged several-thousand year old champion of magic. He reckons there's no time like the present to confront his hunch.'

Look, Danny’s been working with the Justice League for a while now, and he likes to think he knows them all pretty well. Some of them are more open about their civilian identities than others, but even if he doesn’t know who everyone is behind the cowls, he’s got their personalities down pat at least.

Everyone except, perhaps, Captain Marvel.

Maybe that’s not fair to say. Captain’s a friendly enough guy- nobody’s ever had a bad conversation with him that Danny knows of- but he’s weirdly flaky. The longest he’s stuck around post-mission is probably about five minutes tops, and no one actually knows anything about the man; the League have a habit of hanging around after missions for drinks and talk, and the Captain’s been offered a place with them several times and not taken it once. In all fairness, neither has Danny, but he has an excuse. They think he’s about several thousand years older than he actually is and also a full ghost, so they’d probably expect him to drink and he doesn’t want to have to go through the awkward process of refusing and nor does he want Jazz to go ape on him for giving into peer pressure.

…That’s another thing; Captain Marvel is allegedly several-thousand years old, but when Danny looks at him there’s a strange sense of camaraderie that makes him think maybe they’re both liars.

The longer he’s spent thinking about it, the more sense it makes. Their behaviours probably have a lot in common from an outside perspective: coming across awkward around the other members of the team, passing on every event outside of work, sharing very little about their personal lives least of all a civilian identity- which neither of them are even suspected to have. After all, Phantom’s a ghost, and Captain Marvel’s the champion of magic, it seems reasonable to assume their have some other plane of existence they return to when they’re not in the Watchtower. But Danny just goes back home to Illinois and tells his parents he was at Tucker’s again, and he really doesn’t believe that the Captain just sets up shop by the ‘Rock of Eternity’ or whatever he’d mentioned it was called.

He doesn’t know how to bring it up, though, because what if he’s wrong? There’s a non-zero chance that he’s just projecting his own issues on the man (and that sounds so much like something Jazz would say that it physically hurts), and if Danny tries to confront the man about a lie that isn’t there, then the Captain will know he’s lying, and he’ll totally get booted off the team or placed with Young Justice. There’s nothing wrong with YJ, but it’d just hurt to have worked side-by-side with them proving his reliability for so long only to get pushed away because of his age.

So he doesn’t say anything, figuring there’s not much choice other than to wait for some kind of confirmation. Until, of course, the opportunity for confrontation arrives in the aftermath of one mandatory League check-point meeting.

Check-point meeting with the Justice League are really just contractually obligated gossip sessions regarding their recent heroic endeavours that quickly descends into normal conversations. Contrary to the usual progression of these meetings, however, Green Lantern is prodding at Captain Marvel to tell him about what it was like visiting ancient civilisations before they fell.

It’s one of those weeks where the other members are being a bit more insistent on finding out more about the Captain. They’ve made their peace with the fact that they’re not going to get much in terms of a civilian life out of him, but every single member of the League (with the exception of maybe Martian Manhunter) is invariably nosy, which obviously leads to their more mysterious members coming under scrutiny every now and again. This also includes Danny on occasion, but Phantom has a brilliant out for interrogations in the form of making people uncomfortable about the fact that, even if he’s an ancient entity, he clearly died young. All he has to do is pull out some wistful bullshit about wishing he’d lived long enough to experience mortal romance or something equally upsetting and he’s home-safe.

The man across from him, however, taking the form of a very much full-grown adult, has no such excuse.

“Come on, Captain, surely you can tell us something! I thought you were around for ancient Egypt?” Hal exclaims, leaning just slightly over the meeting table to scrutinise his colleague. The Captain is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“Of course I was!” Marvel agrees quickly, accompanied by a nod of the head that could almost be described as frantic. “Ancient Egypt was around for ages, probably couldn’t’ve missed all that if I tried! I wasn’t around for all that much of it though, I- uh, I caught the tail end of it- when Cleopatra was pharaoh, if I remember right- but I was… I was a little busy somewhere else during that, uh, era.”

Green Lantern raises an eyebrow behind the green domino mask. “Busy? Busy doing what?”

“Well-“

The Captain is making a very particular face, the kind that Danny imagines he himself makes when he’s scrambling for any reasonable excuse to get out of the hole he’s dug himself into by lying. And Danny looks at him from across the table, the man catching his eyes with a look he can only describe as odd and desperate, and he makes a decision.

“That was around the time all those conferences were being held to sort out the mess between the newly-formed undead societies and the natural ghosts, right? There was some involvement with living mages, if I recall correctly; I’m sure I saw you at one of those.”

In terms of lies he could’ve told, he figures this one is pretty low-risk. There were a lot of diplomatic meetings held between natural ghosts and the ones existing post-mortem when proper civilisations first came about and people from them started dying, after all (though he knows for fact the living weren’t involved in any way), so it’s not like he’s pulling it out of his ass. If he’s wrong about the Captain and the man admits he doesn’t have a clue what Danny’s talking about, then he can just say it must have been a realms-exclusive thing- hard to remember the finer details when it was all so long ago- and they’ll be none the wiser.

But if he’s right, and he’s really beginning to think he is, then-

Sure enough, the man across from him nods vigorously, clicking his fingers together as if his memory’s just been jogged. “Right!” He chirps, sending Danny a brazen smile. “I don’t know how I forgot about those! Man, those conferences dragged on, didn’t they?”

Bingo.

“Don’t even worry about it- I honestly would’ve thought the first ones were around the revolution at the end of the Qin dynasty in China if you hadn’t reminded me- my memory was way off. Speaking of that though, have you spoken to Pandora since? I figured you two would get along pretty well, but I know there wasn’t much time for small talk and dimension hopping wasn’t half as easy as it is now.”

Captain Marvel shakes his head with pursed lips. “Can’t say I have; not a lot of free time between everything, like you said. Would love to be introduced properly though!”

“Well, I did say I would- couple thousand years later than I thought it’d be, but better late than never.”

The tension easing from Marvel’s shoulders is probably obvious to everyone in the room. Superman looks to the both of them curiously. “You never mentioned knowing each other?” The Kryptonian questions. Phantom laughs the way he sees his mom do during those weird adult get-togethers.

“Oh, we’ve crossed paths a lot,” He declares with a wave of his hand, brushing the notion to the side, catching the gaze of the Captain in his peripheral even as he keeps his eyes on the other superhero. “Can’t say we had the opportunity to get to know each other properly between it all, though. Relations between the magic living and the restless dead have always been a little… fraught. I was just planning to keep things professional on my end unless the Captain wanted to seek a friendship outside of work since I wasn’t sure how appreciated it would be, especially given how much fuss ghosts have been giving the mortal plane recently.”

Marvel’s laugh mimics his own. “That’s what I was thinking! I guess no amount of time can time will change how weird it can be trying to made work friends.”

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), Captain Marvel is waiting outside the hall for him when the meeting is adjourned and each member of the League goes their separate ways. Wordlessly, Danny follows him deeper into the Watchtower, floating behind before phasing them both into one of the locked rooms everyone knows there’s no cameras in, for the sake of being allowed confidential discussions in at least one area of the place- when approved, of course, but these walls don’t hold Phantom just yet, given that the ghost-proofing paint doesn’t quite stick over the lead-lining.

“So.” Danny starts, when they’re both inside the office and the silence begins to creep thick into the air.

Captain Marvel looks nervous. “So.”

“You weren’t at those conferences.”

“No, I wasn’t.” It seems almost painful for him to admit, hands flicking slightly like he wants to fidget with them but doesn’t want to be caught doing it. “I’m grateful you, uh, that you said I was there- thank you, Phantom- but why’d you cover for me?”

For the first time today, and maybe even the first time in the Watchtower, Danny levers himself down from the air, putting both feet on the ground. He hopes beyond hoping his face comes across sincere. “Because I wasn’t there either.” He admits gently, watching for a response.

“I- what?” The man doesn’t appear to know what he’s meant to say. Well, time to rip the bandaid off.

“Captain, you’ve not been around for six thousand, have you? I’m willing to bet you haven’t even been around for 18.” The reaction is immediate. Marvel’s eyes widen, pupils shrinking with alarm, arms coming up as if in defence as he splutters some kind of excuse, and Danny interrupts before he can spiral too hard. “Dude, don’t worry. I seriously won’t tell anyone if you are- I’m not a snitch.”

The Captain’s expression looks utterly lost. “Why?”

Danny thinks it’s probably best to just bite the bullet here. He stands still as the transformation washes over him, bright silver-blue rings parsing over his form, exchanging gravity-defying white hair for scraggly black, hazmat for jeans and a sweater, and Lazarus-green eyes for a gentler blue. When the light finally dissipates, he gives the Captain a second just to process, before sending him a wry grin.

“Hi, Captain Marvel, I’m Phantom- otherwise known as Danny Fenton- Ambassador for the Infinite Realms and sixteen year-old half-human-half-ghost boy.”

The other hero stands still for a long, long moment, mute with shock, before muttering a quiet ‘Shazam’ and allowing the room to fill with the sudden crackle of a lightning bolt. Where the hulking form of Captain Marvel once stood, a boy is left in his place- eyes and hair the same, if a little less put together- but only just coming up to Danny’s shoulder, wearing clothes that have clearly seen a few years go by. If Danny had to guess, he looks about eleven or twelve

“Hi, Phantom,” He says, a little quieter but with more confidence than he’d had before, staring him resolutely in the eyes. “I’m Captain Marvel- also Billy Batson- champion of magic and twelve year-old and world’s mightiest mortal.”

Danny cannot resist reaching over to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Amazing to meet you,” He beams. “And if anyone asks, we’ve known each other since the Early Dynastic period of Egypt and are in no way human or related to any living humans. You good with that?”

Billy looks up at him with a gap in his teeth and mischief in his eyes.

“Phantom, I am more than okay with that.”

#dp/dc week 2022 #Billy asks afterwards what all the historical evidence of Danny is about and Danny explains his time travel shenanigans #And invites Captain Marvel to join in on a few too just to really buff up their alibi #Billy discovers the joy of vandalism in Ancient Rome #Fun fact: I have no idea what happens in this fic because I finished it 1 minute ago and I'm too tired to read it over #If there's any mistakes we can all just ignore them and that's cool and fine!!#Title is from Let's Get This over With by They Might Be Giants because I was struggling for a name and it's just what I had on #dpxdc #dp au #danny phantom au #Bongo's Writing!!!

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henke-penke · 1 month

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*While being forcefully removed from the stage*

Heather and Alejandro are both characters who deeply value how others view them, and who long for love and approval, albeit differently. THAT'S why Noah is perfect for both of them. Because his love is unconditional.

Heather and Alejandro don't have to be extraordinary for Noah to care about them. They don't have to be the best for him to love them.

What does it matter if Alejandro isn't better than José when Noah doesn't care about José ? What does it matter if Heather's not the most popular person when Noah doesn't give a shit about social hierarchies ?

There is kindness in Noah's apathy and bluntness. Strange and unconventional, but kindness all the same. And that becomes a sort of safe space for Heather and Alejandro, because they're just people to him. There is no expectations for them, they have nothing to prove. They can be flawed, they can fail, they can be mean. Noah loves them because they are them and that's enough for him !

#I'm having FEELINGS #this is probably incoherent as fuck but I don't care I love them #total drama #alenoaheather #alenoah #noaheather #might write a fic about this #I touch upon all this in Lovers and Folls #but a oneshot with this in focus might be really neat

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swampthingking · 3 months

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i have this thought that andrew minyard would accidentally befriend a murder of crows if you even care

#and he’s always like “go away” “fuck off” but like one day he throws a piece of his burger at them to deter them #and they don’t stop coming back #they wait for him outside the court #they would bring him gifts and little shiny things #one day they bring him an earring and he starts wearing it #sooooo fucking ironic that andrew is the crow king and their enemies are the ravens LMFAOOOO #i might have to write a fic.#god fucking dammit #i have a paper due and i have to annotate two poems #but i can’t stop thinking about andrew and his fucking CROW POSSE #andrew minyard #aftg #tfc #the foxhole court #all for the game

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wikiangela · 5 months

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fuck it friday 🎄

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 💖

wasn't sure about posting this bc I don't wanna share like everything I have so far but it's fuck it friday so fuck it lol I'm too excited to keep it to myself haha - here's more of the christmas fic and the main idea behind it (I said it's gonna be mostly silly and fluffy and I promise it will be, just gotta add a little more sad while buck talks about his childhood lol)

prev snippet

___

His eyes don’t leave the screen, while Eddie’s are glued to Buck’s face. “Well, there’s a lot of things I always wanted to do with my family on Christmas, but never got to.” his voice gets even quieter. “But there’s one thing in particular. I, uh, that’s so stupid.” he chuckles quietly, then nods to the screen, where a kid is opening a gift with a bright smile, his family surrounding him. “I wanted this.” he admits quietly, as if embarrassed. He never told Eddie much about his life growing up, but based on everything Eddie knows about his parents, he can imagine it wasn’t great. He never asked, not wanting to pry, but now Eddie wonders what Buck’s Christmas must’ve looked like, especially after Maddie moved out. He must’ve been miserable, and Eddie’s heart is breaking just at the thought.

“It’s not stupid to want a happy holiday with a loving family.” he says softly, carefully. Buck shakes his head, the red in his cheeks now visible despite the dark.

“I mean, that too, I- I never got this, and I always wished- but not just that.” another shake of his head. “I mean, the sweaters.” he mutters under his breath.

“Christmas sweaters?” Eddie asks, not sure if he heard right, just because of how quiet Buck said it.

“I know, it’s dumb. I just always imagined sitting around in matching sweaters, as a family, taking pictures, looking like we belong together, like I- like I belong.” he adds, turning his head away, so Eddie can’t see his face. Eddie reaches his hand further, touching Buck’s shoulder.

“They couldn’t give you matching Christmas sweaters?” he asks incredulously, fighting not to raise his voice.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @jamespearce9-1-1 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @disasterbuckdiaz @buckaroosheart @hippolotamus @king-buckley

#fuck it friday #fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #buddie christmas fic #or more like buddie christmas sweaters fic but anyway lol #don't ask what christmas movie they're watching it's all made up lmao #me: i'll keep it vague for now to figure out how to phrase it the way i want to and how to make it make sense #also me: here's every single thing I've written for this bc im too excited and have no self control lol #(still not sure it makes sense but im having fun haha)#getting so excited about my fics i can't keep them to myself is so on brand lmao (jess saw this snippet as soon as i finished it <3 haha)#i might mix it up and share some cheating fic on sunday tho haha

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ingravinoveritas · 3 months

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It has just been brought to my attention--and why I have never seen this mentioned anywhere else before now, I cannot possibly fathom--that David actually takes his shirt off during this production of Macbeth. Specifically, this moment:

As we know, Michael attended a performance of Macbeth in December, on press night. Which means Michael saw that moment happen. From the second row. And was likely staring at David without a shirt on. Which suddenly gives entirely new dimension to Michael and David making eye contact with each other at the end of the show:

Do I think this was the first time Michael saw David shirtless? No (especially not if we take them filming two seasons of GO together into account). Do I think Michael outwardly* displayed anything other than complete respect and admiration for David's artistry and performance? Also no. Do I think that there are potentially a massive number of implications for Michael and David looking at each other like that right after Michael has just seen David shirtless on stage? Fucking hell, I don't know how there could not be.

Because the idea of Michael staring at David shirtless in a theatre full of people--unabashedly, unreservedly--is somehow quiet and incredibly brazen at the same time. The very epitome of "saying a lot by saying very little," which is a tag I have used for both Michael and David on multiple occasions. And David looking right back at him conveys just as much meaning, as if to say he knows he has to bare his flesh to audiences night after night, but Michael is the only person in that room to whom he can bare his soul. The person David has been vulnerable with in a way he hasn't with anyone else.

It's truly remarkable to contemplate. To think that the biggest, loudest statement Michael and David could make was done without saying a word. And that we all had the chance to see it thanks to one beautiful, timeless photograph...

(*Note: This does not mean Michael wasn't making loud AWOOGA noises on the inside, because he totally was...) **UPDATE: I have just been made aware that David is not actually fully shirtless in the play, but has a vest on underneath the shirt seen in the above photo. Apologies for inadvertently spreading any misinformation. But at least we can be satisfied knowing Michael has likely seen David shirtless in other contexts...

#david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #macbeth #donmar warehouse #the fanfics this will inspire i stg #i have started writing a fic about them that night and this is the best inspiration #an entire theatre full of people and it's like they're the only ones there #also it's nice to know we don't even have to say Michael was undressing David with his eyes #because David was ACTUALLY undressed #let me live please #the fact that there keep being more things to discuss about this is slowly killing me #at this point the subtext might as well be a billboard #they are perfect together your honor #ineffable lovers #good omens rpf #discourse

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wizardnuke · 5 months

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important aspect of shadowgast To Me is that caleb thinks it's cute when essek's being a bitch and visa versa

#oh to have someone who listens to you bitch and reminds you it's not the end of the world #also oh to have someone who sits vigil with you when you grieve and/or get angry at your lot in life no matter how deserved it might be #also important for them. To Me #essek gets into a really tetchy terrible mood bc he bitterly misses the comforts of being rich and not having to run for his life and #caleb silently hands him a basket of green beans to snap and essek realizes halfway through said basket that he's doing it #yknow what i mean.#i think for them. when im writing or reading or thinkin about em. the biggest importantest theme is that #1. they are terrible people who are trying very hard to learn how to be good 2. they are equally matched in their terribleness and very #unimpressed with one another. unstoppable force and immovable object. north star.#where is that fic. it's called out of season. it's so good its my thesis for them

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wolfywolfy · 18 days

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Just a reminder that I have an ongoing fic of these two on AO3! Here's the warnings and (brand new!) summary below:

WARNINGS: blood, manipulation, sex, mentions of trauma, violence and gore in some chapters (will be stated in chapter notes), sometimes there will be angst, the idiot gets cared for

Primrose is a druid, tree-hugger, and the de facto leader of their merry little band of tadpooled misfits. She's been completely isolated from society, living alone in the woods for who knows how long, and given her naivety, Astarion figured she was raised by wolves.

Regardless, being a leader means she is a sturdy foundation for himself to latch on to, if he can manipulate her to care for him. She's prone to waxing poetics and altruistic to a fault, the perfect victim for his ministrations – so imagine his surprise when she turns out to be more complex than he gave her credit for.

Why, exactly, has she been hiding from society? Prim carries herself as if she would never do any wrong, but when provoked, she's shockingly deadly. The more time he spends with her, the more he has a suspicion that there's something dark lurking beneath the surface…. Perhaps it's time to find out.

This fic updates weekly! It starts off kind of like sequential drabbles, but has turned into a larger overarching story that I'm excited to share!! 🫶 No joke, I have 60,000+ words for this in the doc right now, I'm just forcing myself to take my time with posting it so I can be consistent lol

Link to AO3 below, feel free to comment and/or ask me any questions you might have! I hope you like it 💜

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jezunya · 21 days

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Angels can sense love (and other virtues), while demons can sense lust (and other vices).

Early on, Crowley can sense Aziraphale's little spikes of lust towards him, and he maybe thinks a time or two about tempting the angel into a serious sin, maybe even something worth falling over...? But he also genuinely likes Aziraphale, more and more each time they meet, and so he holds back. Gets him to try some human food and think a little independently from Heaven's company line. Calls it a win just to have someone to talk to, to have someone who understands even a little, and even more a win when he gets Aziraphale to relax and enjoy himself once in a while.

And then, of course, that sense of lustful, covetous desire coming from the angel wanes and eventually vanishes altogether. Oh, he still senses it occasionally, especially when it comes to acquiring a particularly rare manuscript. But it's never directed towards Crowley anymore, hasn't been for decades, maybe even centuries if he thinks about it.

It's not disappointing. Not really. He wouldn't want to tempt Aziraphale into anything that could actually be harmful to him, after all. Hasn't wanted to do that since sometime back in the Old Testament times, to be honest. It was just... nice? (Ugh.) To know he was wanted, at least in that way. And now that's gone, apparently, Aziraphale's physical desire for him having cooled as they've become friends over the millennia.

(He's still got it, though, if his success inspiring lust and envy in humans when a job requires it is anything to go by. Just can't inspire it anymore in the one being he'd be particularly interested in exploring it with...)

What a shock it is, then, when Aziraphale asks quite desperately one day, after they're finished with Heaven and Hell and their attempts to wipe the Earth from existence, if he can make love to Crowley -- but then also rushes to assure Crowley that it's alright if the answer is no! That what they have now is absolutely perfect! It's only that Crowley is so beautiful, and Aziraphale feels he's half gone out of his mind at times through the long centuries trying to ignore how distractingly much he simply wants to touch him, hold him, caress him... And now that they're here, together, and trying to be honest with each other, trying for open communication, Aziraphale doesn't want to keep this to himself any longer, wants it all out in the open and to know Crowley's thoughts on the matter so that he shall know how to act going forward. It's an excited, blundering, mess of a confession, ending on a stiff-upper-lip determination that most people think is so very English but don't know that Aziraphale actually invented it and that the Brits have just been following his lead all this time.

And Crowley has no idea how to respond, questions getting caught in his throat, tangled around his forked tongue. Because, what? What?!

He watches his angel's face start to crumble as he struggles, and finally his protests take shape: He could sense when Aziraphale stopped wanting him like that! It's been years and years and years! Without a single whiff off lust coming off Aziraphale when he looks at Crowley!

Which, Aziraphale replies, is simply not possible. Because, honestly, he's only come to desire Crowley more over the years: sensually and sexually, yes, but also as a friend and confidante, also romantically. Tenderly. He quite desires Crowley in every way it is possible to do, he thinks.

And really, Aziraphale goes on, feathers a little ruffled now, Crowley needn't pretend or make excuses -- if he doesn't want to be with Aziraphale in that way, he will absolutely respect that. There's no reason to pretend he can't sense how Aziraphale feels, just as Aziraphale has been able to feel Crowley's love for him growing, starting with those bits of affection and interest all the way back in Eden, through to the very purest, most all-encompassing love he's been able to sense from him these last few years, after everything.

But demons can't sense love, Crowley has to remind him a bit tetchily, only vices! Things that lead to sin and degradation and unhappiness! So it's not actually the same at all!

And then he watches Aziraphale make a pretty perfect Shocked Pikachu Face, not that the angel would understand the reference if he told him.

But Aziraphale starts to smile after a moment, even if his eyes are shining with tears at the same time, and the angel breathes that it's not a vice to wish to be close to someone whom you love, and whom you know loves you in return.

The penny drops.

Aziraphale never stopped wanting him -- he just also started loving Crowley at some point.

#aziracrow #good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #this has surely been done before #not actually my usual headcanon but I had this thought #about them both thinking the other wasn't interested in sex even once they're together in most other ways #aziraphale bc crowley hasn't made a move and crowley bc he doesn't sense (sinful) lust from az anymore #...this is such a weird concept for me as an atheist. but this is the sandbox I have decided to make a home in lol #anyway #they have one braincell between them #but every now and then they might actually resolve some of their idiot issues #idk if I'll ever have the energy to actually write this into a real scene with like ~dialogue~#so have this little bit of ficcish writing anyway #my writing #my fics #fanfiction #short fiction #queer fiction #this needs more of an ending :P

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hephaestuscrew · 7 months

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I've been thinking again about Minkowski and Hera during the time when Eiffel was stranded on Lovelace's shuttle - about how Hera had gotten so used to monitoring Eiffel's wellbeing, and how Minkowski felt responsible for his safety, and how neither of them cope well with not knowing things they feel they ought to.

Perhaps one day Hera notices Minkowski reading the nutrition information on the back of the ration packs (the same kind as the ones that were on that shuttle). And Hera knows what Minkowski's doing, because she's been running the same calculations herself. Calories in one ration pack multiplied by number of ration packs on the shuttle, divide that by minimum calories required per day, add something on for the number of days survivable with no food at all...

Hera's got access to plenty of information about what the human body can survive, but there's too many variables here. How damaged is the shuttle? What's the temperature like? What's Eiffel's body weight? And there's too many horrible questions that Hera and Minkowski don't want to think about, and are unable to stop thinking about. How much will to live does Eiffel have? How long can a person hold onto hope in a situation like that?

Perhaps they each separately decide on an answer to their calculations, if only so they can pretend they know that he's currently still alive. But their mental countdowns tick down. And so maybe there comes a day when Hera glitches much more than usual. And maybe not long afterwards there comes a day when Minkowski can't seem to focus on anything at all. And maybe they talk about it, or maybe they don't. But either way, they both know that the other is thinking over the same question. And they are both hoping - more than anything - that the answer they've arrived at is incorrect. They are both hoping for an answer that seems impossible.

#Wolf 359 #w359 #I thought about writing this as an actual fic #but I know in my heart I'm not going to #so here's just a random sad post #Apologies #I go back and forth on how much I think Minkowski and Hera talked to each other about Eiffel during this time period #Like sometimes I believe they must have talked to each other a lot about how they felt about losing him #and about the memories they shared of him #because the alternative feels too bleak #But other times I acknowledge that neither of them are really winning any prizes for opening up about their feelings #Either way I think Minkowski and Hera did provide really important support to each other in this time #even if it was more unspoken #I think the way they had to rely on each other in this time really strengthened their bond #Also I couldn't be bothered to figure out actual numbers for how long it might have taken him to starve to death #Lazy research provides too broad a range of answers about that #and I know this doesn't acknowledge the cryo pod #but Minkowski and Hera might not even have had evidence that it was functioning #and they certainly didn't know whether he'd use it #Wolf 359 spoilers #w359 spoilers #the empty man posteth #Hera & Minkowski #Eiffel & Minkowski #Eiffel & Hera #tw starvation

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wowbright · 5 months

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Fic: Wedding Gifts

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023

Words: ~2,400 words

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Blaine has some unconventional wedding ideas.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the possibilities for their future. The stuff Kurt gets scandalized about is related to LDS wedding/temple ceremonies, which members are not supposed to replicate outside the temple.

* * *

“Oh my gosh, Blaine. We are not doing a presentation at the veil at our public, outdoor wedding.” Kurt spoke firmly, but how was he going to possibly win this argument? Of course Blaine would bring it up when they were naked in bed, Blaine’s legs sprawled over Kurt's thighs, his head on Kurt's chest, and Kurt an absolute pool of jelly, his brain and body spent from the things Blaine had done to him.

Let's try a new position, Blaine had said. But it hadn't just been a position. It had been a revelation: Blaine hovering over him, praising his cock and demanding things of it that Kurt wasn't sure it could deliver, not letting him come and not letting him come when Blaine was riding him past all sanity, their hands clasped together at the side of Kurt’ head and Blaine using them for leverage, pushing against them as he lifted himself up and then plunged himself back down onto Kurt's erection, over and over again, and stammering and moaning and bossy in a way that he never was outside of bed and that he had only recently begun to let himself be in it, and Kurt really did like it when Blaine got that way, because it meant that all his reservations were gone, he was afraid of nothing, and so when Blaine told him No, not yet Kurt, you can’t come yet, I still need you inside me, I need you to fuck me so slowly, I need your cock filling me up and oh stretching me and you’re oh yes you’re so big give it to me oh yes like that Kurt yeah Kurt fuck me like that give it to me give it to me I love your cock I love you oh yes— Well. It was Kurt’s pleasure to oblige.

“It's not public,” Blaine said innocently, running his thumb back and forth over Kurt’s nipple. “We sent out invitations.”

“You know what I mean. There will be non-members there. And what about the members. Are you trying to give them heart attacks?”

Blaine propped himself up on one elbow and looked down on Kurt with a seductive smile. “You mean, like I gave your member a heart attack?”

“Don't you dare bring up that mind-blowing sex when we’re talking about our relatives.”

Blaine smirked. “It was pretty mind blowing, though, wasn't it? Kurt, the things you do with your—"

“Ahem.” Kurt cleared his throat. How was he getting hard again already? When he'd orgasmed, it had felt like Blaine was pulling every last ounce of delight from the center of his body and out onto the surface, out into Blaine. But apparently his body had some secret stores Kurt didn’t know about—or, more likely, Blaine had spilled his own pleasure back into Kurt, and was doing so again now, recharging him body and soul. “You will not use orgasms as a bargaining chip in our wedding planning.”

“It wasn't just the orgasms that made it mind-blowing, though, was it?” Blaine said, and Kurt almost answered but then decided not to, because he refused to let Blaine distract him into agreeing with his cockamamie wedding ideas. He made a face at Blaine that he hoped approximated a glare.

“Oh, fine. Be that way,” Blaine said, flopping onto his back. “But who cares what they think? This wedding is for us, not them.”

“Um, technically it is for them, Blaine. Given that we're already legally married.”

“Yeah, but that was in a courthouse in front of two people we didn't even know, and this is our public declaration of love. And I want us to declare it in our own way. We said this wedding was about celebrating the roles our guests have played in our lives and inviting them to celebrate our relationship. And if people show up and they can't handle how we choose to express our love, they shouldn't come to our wedding.”

“Ah. So it's a big fuck you to your family, huh?”

“No!” Blaine pouted. “My mom would love it. She figures we're going to the celestial kingdom already. She's so bummed we can’t get sealed in the temple. But if we had a veil … and it wouldn't be the whole presentation at the veil, anyway. Just some white curtains. Lots of people have white curtains at their wedding. You have to have a canopy in case it rains, and if you have a canopy, you need to have something on the edges to keep the rain out. I'm just saying we could step through them at the start of the ceremony, instead of going down the aisle.”

In spite of himself, Kurt was becoming intrigued. He rolled on his side toward Blaine. “Together?”

“Well—” Blaine mirrored Kurt’s action. They were almost nose-to-nose. “I was thinking maybe you first, and then you could pull me through?”

Kurt almost burst out with That is not just stepping through curtains, Blaine! That's what grooms do with their brides at the veil! But Blaine looked so hopeful, and his eyes were so wide and eyelashes so long that speaking crossly would be like shooting Bambi. Kurt reached for Blaine's hand. “Are you the bride in this scenario?”

“Sort of?” Blaine said. “I don't know. It's just always the way I pictured it.”

“Always?”

“Well, since I first dreamt about it. In Germany. When I was starting to realize I was in love with you. I had a dream about you pulling me through the veil. And I couldn't explain it, but it felt so right. I guess that dream has never left me.”

“You never told me about that.”

Blaine shrugged. “It never came up. But now we have a wedding where we can do everything the way we want, the way that speaks to us? This speaks to me, Kurt.”

With the way Blaine was looking at him, that tender look that always made Kurt feel like he’d been blessed more than any other human being in the history of human beings, Kurt wanted to say yes. But if he did that, he would be ignoring his own gut. And if Blaine had taught him anything, it was that they didn't have to do that with each other. “I don't know, Blaine. I'll have to think about it. I know my relationship with the temple has changed, but it still feels … I don't know, maybe too bold? Besides, one of us pulling the other through—isn't that a little heteronormative? Just because you like to bottom doesn't make you a bride.”

“Oh, but you see, it's the opposite of heteronormative! It's reclamation. It's a challenge to narrow gender roles and the church’s myopic vision of family.” Blaine’s joyous smile turned sly. “Besides, can you really call what I just did with you bottoming?”

Kurt snickered. “You mean, because you were on top in more ways than one?

Blaine crawled over Kurt. They slotted their hands together on either side of Kurt's head. “I can take charge again for you, if you want. I know how tired you get, how you sometimes need a break from holding the reins.”

“Are you talking about sex or about wedding planning?”

Blaine smirked. “Maybe both.”

“Because next thing you're going to tell me is that you want mirrors at the wedding.”

“Well—”

“No!” Kurt protested, but it came out with a peal of giggles. “We are not doing mirrors. If you need us to stand between two mirrors so that we can see our coupledom infinitely reflected back to us, we can order that for the honeymoon suite.”

“Hmmm.” Blaine lowered himself onto Kurt, pressing the beginnings of his renewed erection onto Kurt’s belly. “That's not a bad idea.”

“You like that?” Kurt said, returning the gift by pressing his own reburgeoning arousal into Blaine’s flesh. “Besides, wouldn’t that be better? To see us naked together, joined in the flesh for eternity, me inside you and, if you want …” In spite of himself and the fact that they were already baring themselves to each other, Kurt felt himself blush. “… you inside me?”

Blaine's eyes went wide, whether from surprise or arousal, Kurt wasn't sure. “You'd want that?”

Kurt shrugged. He could be coy, too. “Only one way to find out.”

“Have you tried …?” Blaine wiggled his fingers against Kurt’s meaningfully.

Kurt wasn't sure whether to nod or shake his head. “Sort of? I mean, I did it in high school a couple times but I would get self-conscious and stop. And I’ve tried it a little when we've been apart, but I've never come from it—not because I don't think I could, but because…” Kurt felt himself flush all the way up to his hairline. “I wanted to save that for you? Which, talking about heteronormative—”

“You want me to do that, now?” Blaine said quietly, with the calm sincerity of reading a scripture verse. “You want me to finger you?”

Kurt nodded.

The initial stretch wasn't as intense as Kurt expected. Maybe that was because of the orgasm he'd had less than an hour ago, or maybe it was thanks to his occasional practice. Still, he let out a guttural moan that would have embarrassed him if it wasn't this and it wasn't with Blaine.

“You okay?” whispered Blaine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kurt panted. “Keep—” A spark ignited deep in Kurt’s groin. “Oh!” He had liked this in high school. He’d enjoyed it in each of his practice sessions. But here, with Blaine on top of him, kissing him and moving his finger carefully inside him, it was beyond enjoyment. Because it was them—their bodies moving together, serving each other. Because with Blaine, Kurt could be himself, free and unashamed.

Blaine slid his finger in and out, whispering to him softly, asking him what he liked and what he wanted and what felt good, “because I want you to feel good, Kurt, I want you to feel so good.”

And Kurt tried to be snarky, but it came out as, “Not so—oh—not so—yes. Blaine.—not so bossy—oh God oh God oh God—not so bo—ahhhh—ssy now, a-are you?”

“You want more of that?” Blaine asked tenderly. “Another finger?”

And Kurt didn't even have to think about it, the words just came out of his mouth, pleading, “Yes. Oh, yes.”

Now Kurt was starting to feel the stretch, and he liked this, too, liked the way his body could open for and accommodate Blaine, liked that he'd been designed to experience pleasure in multiple ways, and now was not the time to analyze if he liked this better or the same or less or if it was just different, a different way to love Blaine and draw closer to him, a different way to experience his body and the goodness of his physicality and his desire.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Blaine asked like he was whispering a special request to Kurt at sacrament meeting.

Kurt shook his head. “Kiss me.”

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed—the way they used to on their little loveseat in Germany, back when they had rules about shirts on and buttoned and no making out in the bedroom and every touch was a sacred shock to the system, and they would kiss each other into fervors of passion that only more kissing could quench—only now Kurt was splayed on the bed, Blaine inside him and their dicks twitching against each other’s flesh, and it felt good, truly good, in Kurt's body and in his soul, and Blaine experimented with different ways of stroking and different speeds and “would you like another finger, Kurt? Do you think you can take three?” and everything went blurry but also exquisitely in focus: the thrum of Blaine’s body in time with his; the need inside Kurt, growing like life itself; the soft grunts and groans they each made, so that Kurt sometimes didn't know if he was moaning his own pleasure or in response to Blaine’s—not that it mattered, it all felt the same—and Kurt found himself thrusting back on Blaine's fingers as much as Blaine was thrusting into him, found himself delirious with the pleasure of it, found himself calling out yes yes yes yes yes yes oh Blaine yes and when Blaine asked, “Do you want to come?” Kurt couldn’t answer because he wanted to but also he didn’t want this feeling to stop and so he spread his thighs out as far as he could and took Blaine’s fingers just a fraction deeper and that—oh, that, oh, Blaine, you’re inside me Blaine, fuck me, Blaine, you’re—

“Oh, Kurt, you’re so hot, you’re so beautiful, I want you so much Kurt, oh Kurt, oh Kurt, I can’t help it, I think I’m gonna come—"

And Kurt held Blaine’s face as he came, watched his mouth drop open and his eyes go wide but never losing their focus on Kurt, making Kurt feel like he was some sort of miracle, and maybe he was, because they were, they were a miracle when they moved together like this and when they loved each other, and Blaine’s semen fell warm upon Kurt’s belly and yes, yes Blaine, I want to come, I want to come for you.

It was like an earthquake and a blessing and a thousand metaphors that Kurt would never have the language for, because Kurt never had the language to describe the level of ecstasy that Blaine kept bringing him to, for the depth of love that existed between them.

“That was okay?” Blaine said a few minutes later, when they’d caught their breath and the faculty for forming complete sentences had returned to them.

Kurt burst into laughter. “Yeah, Blaine, it was okay.”

“You want to try it again sometime?”

“If you're amenable.”

Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt's cheek. “You want me to deflower you?”

“You mean, more than you already have?”

Blaine nodded knowingly.

“I was thinking …” Again, Kurt felt the familiar heat return to his face. “Maybe on our wedding night? Or on our honeymoon?”

“Hmmmm,” Blaine said with a teasing look. “That's not too heteronormative?”

Kurt bit his lower lip as he shook his head. “Nope. It’s a wedding gift.”

“For you or me?”

Kurt rolled onto Blaine and kissed his chin, his cheek, his forehead. “That’s the beauty of it. We’ll find out together.”

#december klaine challenge 2023 #day 4: presentation #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #also the characters in here argue about whether things are heteronormative or not #you may not agree with their judgments but hey that's cool #but whether they are heteronormative or not their views are their own and have grown from their particular mix of baggage and liberation #so if you don't like it sorry I didn't know how else to write the characters #and stay true to them #at least they are dialoguing about it #which makes it sound like this story might be emotionally intense #when actually it is just them having fun arguing over wedding plans and getting sexy

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