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#bang can fanfic
charmercharm3r · 1 year
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I dont know if you're taking requests but
Imagine camping with friends and SKZ are in the campsite next to you and you start flirting with chan or any of 3 racha and you end the night getting fucked in their tent or an a table or something
Idk I've never made a request .....
ooo I like the way you think... perfect timing with chan's birthday :3 hope you like it!
Camp Out
BC
Masterlist
wc: 3.4k
Synopsis: You made some great friends on a trip you didn't even want to go on.
warnings: smut, sexual explicit content, unprotected sex (do not do this), mentions of exhibitionism, little bit of ass slapping, creampie
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You should’ve never let your friends convince you to go camping. You hated the outdoors, at least living outside for a few days. It never seemed appealing, no hot shower, no running water, having to use nature’s bathroom. But still, they assured you that you’d have fun and that it’ll be great for making memories together. So reluctantly, here you are at a campsite.
Surprisingly, there were a few people around doing campy things like barbecuing and playing in the lake. Sure, it was nice for a few hours. Then the boys at the site next to yours came over, inviting themselves to your campfire for some s’mores. They’d introduced themselves as Jisung, Changbin, and Chan, cool guys. Probably had no idea what they were doing because their attire screamed city, just as yours did. None of you were prepared for camping.
You had to admit, you didn’t hate the new addition to your camping group, the three boys were quite easy on the eyes. Chan in particular caught your attention, finding his quick-witted jokes and curly hair to be rather endearing. He lingered around you, making conversation that felt so natural as if you’d been lifelong friends. It felt right to stick around him, maybe throw in a flirt here and there. 
Your now extended group laughed and had fun together until the sun went down, and you were forced to choose tents. Since there were four of you and three tents, one tent would be shared between two. It was just your luck that you got a tent to yourself— in the dark, in the middle of nowhere.
Chan and his friends were around when your group decided on sleeping arrangements. To keep the fun going, one of your friends invited them to move their site to merge with yours. How could they say no to a group of girls inviting them to sleep oh so close by?
Yeah, the boys were underprepared with only one tent for the three of them, not that they minded. They all seemed pretty close and the tent was a decent size. The tents were set up in a lopsided circle, the boy’s next to yours and you were thankful there was a few people stronger than you in case something happened.
Seeing your hesitancy to sleep alone, Chan offered you the baseball bat he kept in his car to accompany your measly pepper spray for protection.
“Don’t leave any food out, bears can smell it,” Jisung nonchalantly said, packing his leftovers into the sealed garbage bin. Your voice caught in your throat at the mention of bears possibly lurking around.
It was like Chan could read your mind. “Don’t worry, there’s no bears,” he whispered, nudging your arm gently and giving you a warm, dimpled smile. 
His words didn’t ease you. By the time the sun had completely set and everyone dispersed for the evening, you were practically shivering with anxiety. It didn’t help that no one else seemed to understand your worry. So you tucked into your sleeping bag with the bat within arm’s reach, unable to fall asleep.
Somewhere between tossing and turning and your mind racing with the different possibly exit strategies, a twig snapped outside and made you jump, causing a small squeal to escape your lips. Scrambling to slip your shoes on and a jacket, you clicked the flashlight onto the highest setting and grabbed the baseball bat. Your hands trembled as you unzipped your tent, hoping to get into one of your friend’s tents as quickly as possible.
Your feet stumbled onto the grass and the bat instinctively raised at ready position. Just as you turned to walk towards the other tents, another body moved and you jolted the bat back, winding up to swing.
“Whoa, whoa! Down, girl. It’s just me,” Chan said quietly, throwing up his hands in surrender. A relieved breath pushed past your lips.
“What the hell are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me.” Lowering the bat, you relaxed your stance and shone the flashlight in Chan’s face.
“Checking on you, I thought I heard you scream. Will you not point that in my eyes?” He squinted and covered his face from the bright LEDs, you muttered an apology and waved the beam around the floor. “Maybe I’ll let the bear eat you next time.”
Terror suddenly made your jaw chatter, “you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” Chan scoffed playfully, turning his back to crawl into his own tent.
“W— wait— Chan?” The unusual stutter of your words had him pausing, body half in the tent and half outside. He didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. “Will you stay with me?”
Blinking blankly, Chan stared straight ahead at you. He didn’t answer for a few moments, brain short circuiting because this person he’d just met a few hours ago was asking him sleep with them.
Well, not sleep with them— just sleep next to them. Shaking his thoughts out of the gutter, Chan nodded and secured his tent with his sleeping friends inside of it. You wrapped your arms around your body, scared as he made his way over to you. All he did was put his hand on the small of your back to guide you into the tent and you felt warmth instantly shoot through your body. 
“Oh wait, let me get my sleeping bag,” he said hushed as you were already getting back into your own. The thought of him leaving you alone was terrifying, making you reach out to grab his arm before he could leave the safety of your tent. There was a genuine terror in your eyes, making Chan nod and close the tent. “O— okay. Just hold on.”
The sleeping bag was expandable, knowledge you didn’t possess until he’d unzipped and rezipped it to fit two people. Chan waited for you to lay down first, unsure of what to do with himself because he’d only spoken to you this very same day. You faced away from him on your side, so he took that as a sign to lay on his back, unassuming in the way the back of your thighs touched his. He could feel your body warmth through his sweat pants, how were you so hot to the touch?
Against better judgement, Chan snuck a glance beneath the sleeping bag, seeing you in just shorts and a large shirt. He let out a deep sigh, and just as he did, your arm reached back, finding his. You pulled him to lay on his side behind you, draping his arm over your torso. His breathing hitched, holding it in until he was comfortably holding you.
Another glance below the covers, he took extreme notice of how closely your butt was to his crotch. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it, he thought to himself, imagining anything but your ass coming into contact with the half chub he was starting to involuntarily raise.
Your eyes were open, gripping tighter onto his arm and pulling him closer until you were flush against him, chest to your back and hips to your ass. Was it unnecessary? Sure. But Chan was hot, there was no denying it. And he seemed like he was the kind of guy that enjoyed saving the damsel in distress judging by how quickly he’d gotten up to see if you were okay when you screamed. He’d gotten into your tent with little to no convincing, it’d be a shame to pass up the opportunity to tease him a bit. 
His hand hovered over your stomach, unsure of where to touch, so you interlocked fingers, tugging him slightly upwards to rest just under your breasts. When you pushed your hips back just the slightest bit, you felt it. He was hard, incredibly so.
It was so unlike you, inviting a stranger into your bed. But maybe that was also what excited you. There were no strings attached, no feelings, you could enjoy yourself without having to worry about the aftermath.
That’s why when you heard Chan gasp at the contact, you didn’t stop. You pushed harder into his crotch and rubbed your ass over him, his grip on your hand tightening. The more you grinded back into him, the more confident he got, now absolutely sure of why he was here. So he propped himself onto his elbow, brushing your hair from your neck and leaning in, placing soft, experimental kisses to your skin. Unaware of his own neediness, Chan rubbed harder into your backside. 
The feeling of his lips ignited you and made the warmth in your stomach spread. He nipped at your neck again, growing hungrier and hungrier as his hips picked up speed. Turning your head just enough, you met his lips with the same fervor, only the sound of heavy breaths and the swapping of spit echoing in the tent. 
Chan untangled his hand from yours to bring it to the hemline of your shorts, tugging at them. It was rushed and slightly awkward, but you managed to get them down to your ankles. As soon as you did, Chan snuck his fingers towards your core, hot and wet from the second he agreed to stay with you.
His fingertips only grazed your clit and touch-deprived hole, making your body shudder. “Sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He whispered, voice deep with lust. You could only mewl in response, wanting more.
With the lightest touch, he flicked at your bundle of nerves, getting you to arch into his chest and whimper again. A dark chuckle erupted from his throat as Chan swiped some of your arousal, using it to spread over your pulsing mound. He played with you like this, legs instinctively spreading wider the more he rubbed circles into your clit with just the right amount of pressure, just the right speed. He alternated between gently biting onto your earlobe and whispering, “dirty girl. Letting a stranger touch you like this. You’re loving it, hm? Practically begging for me to fuck you.”
He pinched your clit between his fingers, getting you to moan louder. “Please,” the word all you could speak.
“You want that? Want me to fuck you here? Your friends might hear, y’know. They’ll know how badly you’ve wanted me all day.”
You mumbled an, “mhm,” followed by another moan.
“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.” He circled your entrance, your hips lifting to give better access. Though, he only teased you, running them around the outside and making a mess of your essence.
“Fuck me, Chan. I know you wanna, too.”
Caught, he let out a guttural growl, shifting slightly to bite into the crook of your neck and plunge his fingers into you. Three digits, he was knuckles deep in your cunt and leaving bruising marks to whatever skin he could get his mouth on. You could only lean further into his body and let your jaw drop, mumbling his name as the heel of his palm nudged your clit and fingers picked up speed.
“More, don’t stop,” you pleaded, failing to keep a lid on your noises.
His fingers curled just right, doing exactly as you asked and not stopping until you crumbled. Obscene squelching and wet noises filled the tent as you came, Chan rubbing his palm into your clit through your high.
When you came down, he pulled his hand away and brought his fingers to his lips, sucking on them and letting go with a pop.
“Tastes like heaven. You’re gonna have to let me get more than a sample next time, babe.” Want shot through you again at the thought of a next time with him, the thought of his plump lips and fat tongue on your cunt instead.
“Are you—“
“On birth control, yes. Now c’mon.”
In a hurry did he pull down his sweats, just enough to get his cock out. He lazily pumped himself a few times before running the tip through your sopping folds from behind, lifting your leg for better access. Holding up your leg and keeping himself propped up left Chan with no hands, missing and sloppily playing with your aching cunt. You reached between your legs, arching your back to get his cock to slide into you. And when he did, oh how your eyes rolled back and the lewdest of moans escaped. Chan had to shut you up by towering over and smashing his lips into yours.
He bottomed out in a matter of moments, your walls slick with arousal and orgasmic bliss. But he stilled, just feeling how you convulsed and sucked him in deeper with every clench.
“Move,” you urged, grinding your ass into his hips harder. The tip of his cock just barely brushed against your sensitive spot, but not enough. It was hardly anything and Chan was too lost in the heat of your cunt, so much so that you took it upon yourself to buck back onto him, fucking yourself on his cock while he relished in the way your body moved. 
It must’ve looked pathetic, how eager you were to come that you wriggled in his grasp to get him to screw you.
“Please,” you cried in a more desperate manner, voice rising an octave or two.
Chan took the hint, sitting up straighter and resting your knee in the crook of his elbow. He rocked his hips slowly, testing both yours and his limits. It was too gentle, too soft how he took you. There was no way you’d be able to come again like this.
“I said fuck me, Chan.”
His hips stilled, lodged in your pussy. “Hm, I don’t know, pretty girl. Beg me again.”
“I’ve been begging,” your voice grew broken, gone.
“Say please just one more time.” The teasing tone in his words made you want to curse him for even toying with you while he was balls deep. But no matter, you still caved.
“Please fuck me harder.”
A satisfied chuckle left his lips, messily peppering a few kisses to your keep and neck. “See, was that so hard?”
You groaned, playfully annoyed until he pulled out. The sudden emptiness made you whine. But Chan had another idea, gently guiding you onto your stomach and hiking just your hips into the air, back arching to the heavens and face planted in hell. His large hands smoothed over the area of your ass cheeks, placing wet kisses to your back where your shirt had ridden up. Chan hastily pulled his sweats lower to get more comfortable and took hold of his cock again, sliding in and filling you once more.
Upon your moans filling the space, he took both your hands and pinned them behind your back, using them as leverage to pull out and thrust back in hard. Your ass rippled when his pelvis collided, cunt tightening around his cock and making Chan’s eyes roll back.
“God, you’re a fucking sight to see,” he uttered, unsure of whether or not he really meant to say his thoughts out loud. 
Steady, solid pounds he left as you whimpered into the sleeping bag. Much to your pleasure, Chan had a mouth on him.
“This ass, been staring at it all day. Those fucking leggings, lord have mercy. Wanted to bend you over the picnic table and fuck you right there, in front of everyone.” His admittance to wanting you just as badly made you cry out louder. “You like that? Putting on a show for all your friends to see? I know my friends would die to see this ass up close. Guess they’ll have to settle on hearing you scream my name.” Chan brought his hand up, bringing it back down to leave a smack on your ass cheek. 
You groaned into the comforter again, biting on it to keep from making too much noise. However, Chan wasn’t having it. He pulled the fabric from between your teeth and swiped your fair from your face. “Don’t hold back, baby. Let them hear how good I’m making you feel. Make them wish it them getting to fuck you this good, that it was them getting to cream around my cock.”
Cream, you did. Chan was fixated on it, the ring formed around the base of his cock every time he pulled and pushed into your quivering cunt. He couldn’t look away, too pleased with himself because it was proof of how good you felt.
Good was an understatement, you were fucking levitating. There was a numbness in your legs that could only have been caused by a good fucking, and Chan was there giving it to you. So yeah, you cried his name as he kept your arms bound behind you using only one of his large hands as makeshift handcuffs on your wrists, the other hand reaching around to circle your clit again. When the pads of his fingers made contact with the bundle of nerves, your body jolted forward, presenting your cream covered pussy even wider for Chan’s viewing pleasure.
Oh, did that sight go to his head. His hips stuttered deep into you, head falling back as he let himself breathily moan your name. The pause he put on finishing each other off was only for a moment, because then he stole his hand from your clit and pushed into the top of your ass, signaling for you to lay flat on your stomach.
That position was the beginning of his end. As soon as you were how he wanted, the build up of cream spread further up your ass cheeks, covering them as he somehow slid deeper into you. 
“Fuck,” he let out a deep sigh, letting go of your wrists. Chan took your hands with him as he leaned over your body, wanting to hold onto you somehow.
When he started to hammer into you again, your ass jiggled even more, slapping sounds bouncing off the waterproof fabric of the tent. If water couldn’t get in, then it couldn’t get out. The both of you were a sweaty, sticky, creamy mess, unable to get enough of one another. Chan’s hips practically bounced off your ass with every thrust, keeping a steady rhythm until his balls grew extremely heavy. 
“C— close,” you managed to mumble as your brain grew hazy with every smack of his skin on yours.
“Just a little longer, baby. Fuck, you’re so wet, so tight. So fucking good for me.” His assault didn’t cease, but it did get sloppier. 
His rhythm faltered, speeding up and turning into shallow thrusts to constantly make your butt ripple and the head of his cock nudge into the sensitive spot inside you. A few more minutes, a few more rough slaps of his big hand smacking against your skin, the smell of sex filling the tent and now both your and Chan’s pleasure filled moans probably scaring away every animal within a few yards of the campsite. He couldn’t stop, you felt too good around him, your pussy was begging to milk him dry. 
“Gon— gonna cum,” you whimpered breathlessly, hiding your face Chan’s hand that kept his weight up next to you. Your cunt squeezed and released at a relentless pace around his cock, spurring him into a frenzy to reach his release.
“Go ahead, pretty girl. Let go, cream real good on my cock.” His permission allowed for you to relax into the pleasure, let it wash over you for a second time and bite into Chan’s wrist to muffle your moans— not that it did any good. You cried his name as white took over your vision and body turned into jelly beneath him. 
Limbs weak, you let Chan continue to pound into you from behind until he found his peak as well, burying into you with a deep sigh and soft call of your name, walls spasming and welcoming his seed.
Heavy breaths, Chan collapsed onto you, trying and failing not to let all his weight press you into the ground. Even though you were both a sweaty mess, he still found comfort in kissing the back of your neck, rubbing soothing circles into your hand and hip, cock still plugging your hole to keep his sperm from spilling out. 
“Probably don’t have to worry about bears anytime soon,” he mumbled into your skin, eyes closing at the comfort of your body’s natural scent.
“The only bear in my tent just fucked me six ways to Sunday.”
Both you and Chan began to drift off, feeling content and full with his body acting as a blanket. Just as you were falling into darkness, Jisung’s voice called out, “Hope you’re both done scaring the animals and traumatizing your friends.”
-
A/N: I love doing requests. I feel like I write them better than coming up with ideas from scratch and idk why. but this was fun!! send me more :p
-momo < 3
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ladyofthenoodle · 9 months
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It doesn't take long after repairing the miraculous to find out what happened to the butterfly.
Marinette doesn’t take the bracelet to Luka right away after she fixes it.
Maybe she should have—maybe Luka would have been a better candidate to tell Adrien. He’s good with words, after all, and at staying calm in the face of other's despair.
Marinette is neither of those things.
She's especially not those things with Adrien.
But she can't bear to tell Luka first—she hasn't even told Chat Noir yet.
At first, she'd planned to keep Gabriel's secret. He'd asked her to, his dying wish, and she'd still been haunted by the nightmare of Adrien sobbing over his father's ashes. She'd wanted to protect him.
But over time, she'd started to have doubts.
Gabriel hadn't been a good father.
She'd see the statue in the park and think, doesn't Adrien deserve to know the truth?
But then she'd see Adrien laughing in the sunshine, and think, doesn't he deserve to be happy?
So here she is, standing in his room, wielding the snake miraculous alongside her own.
His gaze rakes over her costume, taking it in, before landing on her wrist. She could pinpoint the exact moment of realization by the fear that flashes in his eyes.
"That's not for me, is it?" He doesn't ask this every time—only the times when she doesn't speak first.
"No," she reassures him, and winces at the way his shoulders relax, knowing that what she'd come for was far worse than asking him to wield the snake again.
"Then why…?"
"I have to tell you something," Cobrabug explains. "And I'm not sure how to do it right. So I thought I could… practice?"
Adrien looks thoughtful. "Is this the first time?"
She shakes her head. "The 27th."
His thoughtful expression grows pained. "27 times, while you're wielding two miraculous?"
She waves him off. "I'm sure I'll get it right soon."
He nods.
And—miraculously—she does get it right, this time. All the words come out in the right order and they all make sense and she doesn't start crying.
His face is pale with shock, and Cobrabug is waiting with baited breath for his response, her hand poised to reset the clock.
Adrien opens his mouth to say something, but only a choked, strangled sound comes out.
That's when she notices the butterfly.
Dark, and glowing, and heading straight for Adrien.
Her heart plummets into her stomach.
The missing miraculous.
He notices it a second after she does, eyes flicking back to her in terror.
She reaches for her yo-yo, intent on purifying the akuma, but Adrien is faster.
“Don’t tell me again,” he says, and turns the bracelet on her wrist.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Cobrabug stands in Adrien's room, wielding the snake miraculous alongside her own.
His gaze rakes over her costume, taking it in, before landing on her wrist. She could pinpoint the exact moment of realization by the fear that flashes in his eyes.
"That's not for me, is it?"
"No," she reassures him. "Sorry to bother you. Just checking in."
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thefreakandthehair · 6 months
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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 4th: Rejection | Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier | Lost a/n: pre-steddie post-s4, angst with soft, happy ending because I'm a marshmallow. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to series on ao3
All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. 
That’s it. There are other hobbies, of course, other things that bring him joy– D&D, fantasy novels, art– but ever since he was a kid, whenever a teacher would ask what he wants to be when he grows up, it’s always the same answer. 
I wanna play music. 
As a kid, it seems less daunting. He just has to practice, he just has to play, he just has to have the passion to make it big. To be the next Kirk Hammett, or Eddie Van Halen, or Ozzy Osbourne if he can teach himself to carry a tune. 
Making friends is hard, but he manages to find a few in middle school who can play the instruments he can’t– drums, bass. Eddie takes the role of frontman, not exactly a singer still but he’s charismatic enough to get away with it at their school talent show.
High school comes, and Corroded Coffin is revamped. New vibe, new members. He’s older now, a little more jaded with each rejection. 
No one wants their EP, recorded by hand in Gareth’s garage onto cheap cassette tapes. 
No venue will let them play, and Eddie knows that it’s probably because they’re in high school but hadn’t The Cure started in high school? 
No one believes in them, trying to push them– especially Eddie– to consider more successful careers, safer paths. 
But eventually, they book a regular gig at The Hideout and Eddie’s certain this is it. This is their big break. Until they play week after week, staring at the same five plastered faces every Tuesday. If they can prove themselves though, the owner will have to let them play on a Friday or Saturday.
He never does. 
The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes after Eddie’s final senior year. Being accused of murder should have beefed up his credibility if nothing else– he’s already been traumatized, terrorized, and hunted like a goddamn dog, nevermind almost killed via hoard of angry mutant bats. Surely, he’ll catch at least one break. 
And then the owner at The Hideout tells him he can’t play there anymore. 
The hoards of people who still blame him for Chrissy Cunningham’s death are too much for him to manage himself and, in his words, Eddie’s driving away good business. His heart shatters, his breath catches, and Eddie leaves without a word because if he were to try to speak, all that would come out is either an enraged scream or a choked sob and Eddie doesn’t want to risk either. 
He drives around aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, just circles around the outskirts of Hawkins. Maybe I’ll just leave, he thinks. Indianapolis might be far enough. Maybe Chicago. Fuck it, maybe Argyle and Jonathan can put me up for awhile in California. Eddie wants to go somewhere that makes him forget just how lost he is, how unwanted and forgotten he’s become. Being the social pariah is only fun when he’s making speeches on cafeteria tables, not when it boots him out of his one and only career path. 
Somehow, he ends up in Loch Nora. He can’t face Wayne right now, he doesn’t want to bother Robin or Nancy, he’s already let Jeff, Gareth, and Freak down in the worst way imaginable, and if he goes to his mom’s or Chrissy’s tombstones with one more sob story, he’s afraid they’ll start haunting him. Steve’s become a friend over the last year or so it makes sense. Process of elimination and all of that. 
He doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to realize that he’d started driving that way before he ruled everyone else out. 
Steve welcomes him like he always does and offers him a beer, sitting with him in companionable silence on the couch as they watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail and laugh at the same parts. Eddie knows Steve can see that he’s upset but instead of asking questions Eddie isn’t ready to answer, he just sits a little closer with their thighs touching and one arm strewn over the back of the couch, just barely grazing Eddie’s shoulder. 
The movie ends and Steve moves to switch the tape when Eddie finally speaks up. 
“The Hideout kicked us out. Can’t play there anymore.” 
Eddie sees Steve freeze from behind before turning, his eyebrows knitted together above his nose. “Are you fucking serious?” 
He nods and sighs, lifting one hand to chew on this thumbnail as he looks at the wall beyond Steve. 
“That’s bullshit, dude. Why? Because of the protestors or whatever?” 
He nods again. 
“Want me to go down there? I’ve still got my bat around here somewhere. It might be nice to swing at something that’s not trying to like, eat me.” 
Eddie huffs a small laugh through his nose and meets Steve’s eyes, their righteous anger blending with his own as he sees Steve cross his arms over his chest. It’s hard not to stare. 
 “Well, then at least I wouldn’t be the only guy in this town wanted for murder.” 
Steve shakes his head and just chooses another movie, Howard the Duck this time, before returning to his spot on the couch. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite movies but he can’t focus to save his life because Steve is even closer now, his arm draped fully across Eddie’s shoulders and creating a space for Eddie to easily just… rest. So he does. 
The title sequence starts and Eddie’s head drops to the side, resting on Steve’s shoulder. It’s one of his favorites but he can’t follow the plot to save his life. All he can focus on is the way Steve’s fingers trace symptoms and shapes against the cotton of his tee shirt, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of Steve’s head leaning against the top of his. 
“I had a new song and everything,” Eddie whispers, surprising both himself and Steve. 
Steve hums and tightens his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, a ghost of a hug. “Play it for me sometime?”
All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. And maybe he still can.
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nerdherderette · 4 months
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Riptide
The sun and sand, some tasty waves, and a salt-filled breeze are all Derek needs.
Somehow, Stiles works his way into the equation.
[excerpt]: Stiles looks out toward the water. The sun's rays catch him at an angle that makes his eyes look golden, and Derek can see the individual grains of sand that dust his face. "You know the worst thing about it all?" Stiles asks softly. "It's that I'm going to be known forever as the goofy sidekick on a kid's show. Like, that's my legacy." Derek takes a deep breath. He can relate. He was once considered a prodigy in the surfing world: touted as the next Kelly Slater after he'd won several local competitions right out of high school and then the Billabong Pipeline Masters at twenty, followed by a second-place finish at qualifiers for the US Open of Surfing. The recognition was heady; the groupies and sponsors, more so. And then there was Kate, who had entered Derek's life as hot and quick as wildfire before razing his world to the ground.
Part of the @sterekreversechallenges Sterek Reverse Bang 2023. Based on @wolfspurr 's beautiful, summery mood board prompt.
*The events in the news clipping take place right before the epilogue in the story.
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baby-yongbok · 6 months
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These pictures have me thinking about late night dates with Chan. Grabbing a drink and just walking around, holding hands, and giggling like teenagers. Stopping at every spot that you think looks pretty to take pictures of each other. You both hype each other up, dishing out compliments like candy as you pose for your partner. Singing songs and dancing under the moonlight until you find the perfect spot to relax and soak up each others company. Talking about your day, your dreams, your fears, whatever comes to mind. Kissing each other softly while wrapped in each other's arms. Making memories under the stars.
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ssstraykiss · 6 months
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Changbin's Instagram post.
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jutdwae
My man be looking so bloody fine in the fit. I'll say it again, THE STYLISTS NEED A RAISE IN THE PAYMENTS!¡
Bro the post with chan, omg🥹 step on me honey, just step on me.
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evelili · 9 months
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oh, heres the thumbnail i did for the youtube version btw (now go read the fic :3)
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In honor of my big bang fic's, Can Life Be Beautiful (Instead of Big Fun)?, first anniversary and hitting 200,000 words, I commissioned this wonderful cover art from @remmicreates!!! It's absolutely amazing and I'm so in love with it! (Go check remmicreates out!)
I hope whoever is enjoying the fic enjoys this art! (Well I hope everyone enjoys the art! It's simply beautiful!)
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natalievoncatte · 8 months
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Supercorp Big Bang Story: Embers by Natalie von Catte
With artwork by SWSuperlandartist
Lena realized, with mounting horror, that it wasn't Lex's portal watch; she'd had that in her pocket. That was-
Mercy's lackey flipped the cover open, and just as Lena blurted out a sharp "Don't," he pushed the button.
"You idiot," Lena choked out. "That's my signal watch."
"Signal watch?" said the Child of Liberty.
"Signal watch?" said Mercy. "Signal watch! You idiot," She rounded on the others. "We need to leave, now. Get Luthor and-"
Somewhere in the distance, there was a crash of shattering concrete and a series of harsh bursts of automatic gunfire. Mercy tensed, taking a step from the door as the sounds grew closer. Cracking concrete. Rending metal. Screaming.
"You have no idea what you've done," Lena choked out.
"What do you mean?"
"The Kryptonite in your chest," said Lena. "It's red."
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Rant incoming!!
Don’t get me wrong I love all my followers, but some of y’all got me acting like Emily in this clip.
I will not hesitate to delete your comment(or even block people if necessary) if I feel like y’all are being too pushy about my writing.
Some people be forgetting that fanfic writers are doing this FOR FREE and if the only comment we get are “part 2?” “Next part?” “Tag me.” “Can you make this longer?” “Next update?” Without any other sort of appreciation for the work,or just asking nicely, we aren’t gonna want to write anymore!
I’m gonna start ignoring and deleting comments like that because it makes me sooo frustrated.
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youarenevertooold · 16 days
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WIP Wednesday
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We're halfway through the week, and so far so good. I have done all the most important things on my list, so from here on out the stakes all feel lower. I set a goal to do at least 15 minutes of writing every day this month, and so far I have mostly kept to that, which feels very satisfying. In fact, I feel like I have crested the hill, and may finally be reaching the conclusion of Take a Walk on the Wild Slice!
This did lead me to the realisation that I will either have a very long last chapter, or I will need to increase the chapter count. This would mean it's 8 chapters rather than 7 though, which feels appropriate for a fic involving pizza. I mean, who cuts a pizza into seven slices? Weirdos. That's who. And not the good kind.
So, have a little Baz POV. From the last chapter. Or maybe the penultimate chapter. It'll be a surprise.
“Don’t you have to sign back in at the home by a certain time?” “Technically, I guess. But I’m 18, so there’s not much they can do about it if I don’t.” “So you’re an emancipated young man now?”  He looks down at himself, vaguely confused. It’s too adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks. “I’m not that bad. Definitely not as skinny as I usually am at the end of the summer anyway.” He looks back up at me with a knowing grin. “Probably all the pizza I’ve eaten.” I need a second to take in what he’s said, before I bark out a laugh in spite of myself. “I think you might be thinking of emaciated.” “Maybe.” He gives me a very Simon shrug-and-grin combo. “We’re not all walking dictionaries like you and Penny you know.”
I started to wonder, idly, what I would do with myself when the fic was finally all done. I foolishly believed that I would take a few leisurely days to decide which of my other wips called loudest to me.
Then I heard it in the distance... the siren song of a new fixation... it called to me...
I know it will catch me eventually. I just hope it waits until I've finished this.
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(reenactment of me furiously trying to finish this fic before I fall down the rabbit hole )
I hope this week is treating you kindly. If it isn't... I hope you kick it in the balls and tell it to do better.
Good vibes and high fives incoming in 3...2...1...
@alexalexinii @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @bookish-bogwitch @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @katatsumuli @larkral @leithillustration @martsonmars @melodysmash @messofthejess @moodandmist @prettygoododds @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @run-for-chamo-miles @scribble-tier @shrekgogurt @simonsnowsfreckles @supercutedinosaurs @that-disabled-princess @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @valeffelees @wellbelesbian @whatevertheweather @you-remind-me-of-the-babe
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oldfashionedmorphine · 6 months
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happy sunday! it’s time for another preview of…
on the same frequency!
PS: the reason i’m doing these this way is because i kept making all these chapter moodboards but i didn’t know what to do with them because the fic is being released all at once, BUT since i planned to share some wips of each chapter anyway, i just decided to make them extra fancy! oh and sunday because the fic releases on a sunday… and seven in total because it was a seven (there’s seven chapters lol) 😈
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-.-. .... .- .--. - . .-. / ..---
December 23, 1995
“And what’s that?” Holly points to a gray box with numerous dials and switches.
“That’s a transceiver. It’s part of my old ham radio.”
“What’s a ham radio?”
“Well, uh, it’s kinda like any radio—only you connect to specific radio frequencies used for non-commercial broadcasting… like it’s meant for personal communication and you can even communicate with people across the globe, although unlike a walkie-talkie, you need a license in order to transmit anything—I still have my license too—actually renewed it last year even though I haven’t touched a ham radio in years…”
December 23, 1985
Will checks his watch again, it was 10:23 am—What’s taking him so damn long?
Another three and a half minutes go by and then Dustin’s mother’s car comes into view and he watches him exit the vehicle and quickly hurry up the driveway. But before Dustin even has a chance to knock, Will opens the door and huffs, “You’re late.”
“Yeah, sorry. My mom kept arguing with me about not wanting me to go anywhere by myself anymore because of Jennifer Hayes—apparently she’s been missing since Friday—”
“Jennifer’s missing?”
🎶 a song from chapter two 🎶
rating: mature
tags: alternate universe, not canon compliant, major character death, grief/mourning, ptsd, blood and injury, supernatural elements, time shenanigans, butterfly effect, thriller, angst with a happy ending
release date: 11/26/2023
✨ previous chapter preview ✨
ch1
tagging:
@kaiminluu @greenfiend @total-serene560 @across-thestars @boahey @magentamee @daydreams-in-the-moonlight @soyboystan @foodiewithdahoodie @booksandpaperss @likegoldintheair @mandycantdecide @hazmatazz @sparks-olivarpente @1-tehe-1 @lucasvenkman @rebellius @maru-chu @septembr-moon @kamomillatea
(if you’d like to be tagged/untagged for the next preview, please let me know!)
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soplapinga · 26 days
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Whenever I find myself crying about how much I WISH I had the necessary language knowledge to actually write (like, fanfiction and shit) in English I vividly remember that one scene of Georgia from Modern Family and FEEL it because God y'all really will never know just how fucking smart i am in Spanish .fuckers
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addictofreading · 2 years
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My drawing for this year's Zutara Big Bang (@zkbigbang) is for the fic The Forest of Lights!
After reading the description, I knew I wanted to make cover art for this story and was very happy to be assigned to it. The amazing author and betas have worked hard to make this fic as wonderful as it is, so do yourself a favor and give it a read and don't forget to leave them a comment! :)
Also, you should definitely check out @risemaclay 's art made for this fic. It's gorgeous!!
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bitbybitwrites · 3 months
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If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - Klaine Fan Fic (Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang 2023) - Chp 23
Happy 2024 folks! Here's the next installment of this story! I'm still plugging away at it. Thanks to you all who have stuck around to keep reading it!
(Psst - I was swamped during the holidays - so if I haven't responded yet to your comments on the previous chapter, I apologize!)
Make sure to read the beginning notes - a trigger warning is up for this new chapter.
To read Chapter 23, click here.
To read the story from the beginning, click here.
To subscribe to the fic’s YouTube playlist, click here.
To see the recipe/music posts for the fic, click below:
Chapters 1, 2 and 3, Chapters 4, 5 and 6, Chapters 7, 8 and 9 , Chapters 10, 11 and 12  ,  Chapters 13, 14 and 15,  Chapters 16, 17 and 18., and Chapters 19, 20 and 21.
And to see all the basic info for the fic, check under the gorgeous cover art created by @datshitrandom
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Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang by @the-lima-bean 
If I Can Make Your Heart My Home
Author: @bitbybitwrites 
Artist: @datshitrandom  
Prompt Provided by: @datshitrandom
Pairing(s): Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson 
Rating: Explicit
Word Count:   92,580 words (and counting!)
Characters: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Elizabeth Hummel, Burt Hummel, Sam Evans, Santana Lopez, Blaine Anderson’s Grandmother (Original Character), Various other Glee Characters
Summary: Life in New York City and working in the restaurant industry wasn’t exactly what Kurt Hummel had expected it would be. He’s lonely, stressed out and miserable.  He’s almost ready to throw in the towel and return home to Ohio when a chance meeting with a musician in Central Park changes everything.
Genre/Tropes:Musician!Blaine, Street Musician!Blaine, Baker!Kurt, Chef!Kurt
Warnings: Consensual sex; Mention of Character death (canon); Panic/Anxiety attack; Bullying/Intimidation, Angst and Feels, Sexual assault
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pixelatedraindrops · 24 days
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My ‘attempted’ drabble Warm and Weary is now on my AO3! Featuring some more lovely fanart by my friend @kazinsblog 💕
I made it a teeny bit longer but not by much. Only enough that it’s no longer a flash fic. (1k words)
It is still my shortest fic in length. But it's short, yet sweet 💜 I love these two so much 🥰 And Yuma hinting at his boss for help is the best part of it all c: Shows how much he trusts him <3
This fic makes no change in their canon relationship. Much as I do love yakou fathero, I know its not everyone's cup of tea. So this one's for all of you who see these two more as roomies :3 (but those who do enjoy yakou fathero can still see it as such as well. It's for everyone ^^)
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