#Love Dunn Author

[dilawrosas]

[BOOK REVIEW] ARC: The Lotus Flower Champion by Pintip Dunn & Love Dunn

This Pintip Dunn and Love Dunn book is AVAILABLE NOW! ✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️ This book tells the story of the heroine’s adventure filled with Thai folktales and a bit of romance.The heroine’s dying mother wanted the whole family to visit Thailand. However, the heroine’s family ends up stranded on an island with ten strangers while being tested to awaken dormant powers by facing their own fears and possibly…

[venusbyline]

❤️‍🔥?

oh shit maybe i'll be a little judged now, but Coriolanus Snow, Nate Jacobs, Felix Catton, Peeta Mellark, Noah Calhoun, Sebastian Wilder, Finnick Odair, Billy Dunne, Stefan Salvatore and Kol Mikaelson are some of them

[forsworned]

JINX! YOU OWE ME A SODA! ft. KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK

Author's note: Because Kyle does not get enough love and I really wanted to write for him and the little interactions between the 141 :)

Tags: Sexual Content, Masturbation, AFAB!Reader, Brainrot convos amongst 141 men, Team Building and Banter w/141

It's breakfast time in the mess hall and Kyle is navigating to the usual spot that the 141 hangs out in. Clandestine, blue rusty bench right against the large panel windows, with a clear view of the crisp evergreens and wildflowers stretching out in the horizon. A peaceful outlook for a proper meal and some banter.

"Brekkie for a champ." Johnny winks up at him, noshing on his breakfast burrito.

Kyle chuckles as he takes his assigned-unassigned seat next to the friendly Scotsman and they start chatting about last night's fútbol game. It is followed by Simon sliding his tray, seating himself opposite Johnny with a quiet clatter as he attempts to slip his large body onto the bench. And then it's Price coming from behind him, jostling the skull-masked behemoth to scare him, but it's lost on Simon because he's just giving him an uninterested stare that causes the table to shake with laughter.

And you? You're sitting there from the outside, munching on your home fries with a pang of envy at their camaraderie. Never really having a taste of it as you sit alone most days unless you're on the go, rushing to a mission and you're sharing a ration bar with whatever squad they stick you in. But let's face it, no one really wants to be around you.

Jinx.

That was your nickname. Luckless, star-crossed with death, always skulking closely in your shadow.

Your reputation presided over you. Seven squads KIA, and you were the only one to survive them every single time.

So, it's no wonder you're a lone wolf in a mess hall full of lively, rowdy soldiers.

"Why don't we sit here?" A new recruit inquires to their Sergeant.

Their superior takes one glance at you before giving you a tight-lipped smile, "Actually, I just remembered Corporal Dunn (s/o to my mans) needs us back in his office, so let's just have lunch there, yeah?"

The rookie's wide, naive eyes peer over at you and they wordlessly nod at their CO and you don't even bother to see if they've glanced over their shoulders, whispering to one another about you.

"...seven...?!"

"Keep your voice down, soldier..."

"...sorry."

But somebody seems to have their sights set on you and your sharp, feline-like eyes are on the Sergeant tables away, tucked away into a corner and he can't help but jump a little as he's downing his morning brew.

And suddenly he's snorting it up and his teammates are throwing jests his way.

"Keep y'er coffee in y'er mouth, dammit!" Johnny bellows as he erupts into laughter, patting his back.

And there's something inaudible said by Kyle and you're studying the way his pretty, plump lips move.

"'s that Sergeant over there."

And suddenly four Brits are shamelessly turning your way and you're not tearing your gaze away from them as you're scoffing down your scrambled eggs.

"Heard she's lost seven squads, only one to make it out alive." Simon speaks in a nonchalant tone, popping a piece of celery into his mouth before his face contorts into something that resembles disgust.

A "Bloody hell, that's disgusting." is drowned out by the continued conversation between the three of them about your unfortunate rep.

"'s not the lass's fault." Price adds, leaning back a little to crack his spine. "Oh, yeah, tha's the stuff." A satisfied groan leaves his lips as he rests his elbows on the table, listening in on the little shred of gossip.

This time, it's between Johnny and Simon as Kyle zones them out and his honey eyes are training back on you. A frisson runs up his spinal column when he realizes your gaze never strayed. Like a cat, you're fixating on him, wagging your tail, not yet ready to strike just simply observing with a piquing interest.

And then the subject changes when Simon decides to make a jab at how Johnny's overgrown mohawk resembles a porcupine and he's chuckling to himself as the Scot gets riled up. Kyle thinks that one last glance won't hurt, but you're gone. Not even a trace of maybe some crumbs left from your English muffin. He's intrigued to say the least.

Kyle is spending his days in search of you. You're like an apparition that only gets spotted on odd days of the week at unsuspecting time frames, nestled snugly into unfrequented areas on base. He's trying hard to remember the way your hair looks, your lips, the curve of your nose but all that's burned into his memory is your pointed gaze burring holes into his vision.

He stays up late when he catches a glimpse of you in the armory as he's passing by it, in deep conversation with his Captain about how Koala bears do indeed have chlamydia. And he's backstepping to gaze through the window, but you're gone and he's starting to think that maybe you are a ghost.

How stealthy and lithe your body must have to be under that black, compression tee and those tight, tight tactical pants...

And he's fisting away at his dick, half frustrated and half aroused by the allure of your mystique. Little black cat, thumping her tail against the concrete with enigmatic, hypnotizing eyes that entrance him.

"Fuck!" And he's spilling all over his sheets, taut, heaving abdomen, and humiliatingly enough, right on his chin. He dabs at the cum that's dripping on his face and then gazes over the opulent arousal, before throwing his head back and groaning.

Why was you being such a quandary turning him into a fucking pillock?

"...Kyle...Kyle!" Price's hasty voice rips into his stupor, slinging him back into reality.

"Goddammit, Kyle, ya missed th' shot..." Price clicks his tongue, shaking his head under his gilly suit as he makes up for his mistake. "Are ya soft in’t head or summat?"

"No, sir." Kyle mumbles, embarrassed at the fact that his Captain is cleaning up after him.

"He's gey glaikit" Johnny pokes over the comms.

"English, MacTavish." Simon presses the Scotsman.

"He's fuckin' dazed." Johnny quips. "Fuckin' cunt."

And then there's a collective laughter amongst the four soldiers and Kyle can breathe again, the memory of you tossed into the backlogs of his mind as he's back in the fray.

But then it's 2am on the base, and he can't sleep so he's in the kitchen trying to whip up some Pinterest drink,

"Angel's milk?" He scrunches his brows at his phone screen as it casts a blue shadow over his flummoxed features.

He shrugs his shoulders as he squeezes the bottle of honey into the bottom of his mug, followed by a generous amount of milk, and then he pops it into the microwave for a minute and a half. He leans against the kitchen island and lets out a sharp exhale.

"You were supposed to add vanilla."

He practically feels his skeleton jump out of his skin at the voice, but he can't lie about the fact that he was more than elated to see who was standing beside him.

Hell's fuckin' bells, as Johnny would say.

She was standing beside him, arms crossed, hair in a cutesy haphazard manner, dark circles carved under your eyes, dressed in a little pink striped VS lounge set. And fuck, you smell so good. Like warm vanilla, candied almonds, and maybe coffee? It is difficult to say because he is too flustered by your abrupt appearance.

Your presence and how striking you were up close as you were far away, breathing, existing right next to him.

"Bloody hell, you scared the shite outta me." He swallows thickly, and for the first time, he sees the corners of your lips gracefully turning up into a smile. And oh man, it's making his dick twitch pretty violently in his blue-white tartan pajama bottoms.

"Did I?" Not bothering to hide the satisfaction in your voice nor your expression.

"Ya did, indeed."

And the tension is so palpable. His eyes are skimming over the exposed skin of your thighs, from the fresh baby pink manicure on your nails to your shiny, lacquered lips. You were a sight for sore eyes.

Thump, thump, thump.

He can practically hear your metaphorical tail thudding against the kitchen tiles right now.

The beeping of the microwave rips through the suspense and he pushes himself off the counter to retrieve his heated mug. Opening the utensil drawer to pull out a spoon to stir the little concoction, but his brows are raising when you reach over to squeeze two drops of vanilla extract into his drink.

"Tryna poison me, are ya?" He teases, peering over at you. You have a mischievous glint in your eye as you put the cap back on and carefully tuck it away into the cabinet for later use.

"Don't need to."

"Why's that?"

But you've already turned away, walking back to wherever you came from, hips swaying in your satin pajama shorts that outline every curve of your sweet body.

"Because you'd already be dead by now if it were up to me." You state over your shoulder and then you disappear into the abysmal hallway.

And then he's back in his room again, tightly coiling his hand around his slippery cock that's soaking with his own saliva and maybe a little bit of lube. Same shit, different night, though, this time he was blessed with an addition to his hyperactive imagination.

This time he's thinking about how you would look bouncing on his cock, smiling down at him with your hands around his neck. Pretty, shimmering lips parting as those sharp eyes drift to the back of your head and--

"Shiiiiiiiit."

He's shamelessly cumming all over the hardwood floor of his room, milking out his semen as it comes out in steady ropes and he is heaving. He feels how his cock is convulsing in his hand and he lets out a winded breath before tossing himself against his mattress with heavy eyelids. He goes to bed wondering how worn out he'd be if he ever got his hands on you.

"Oi, Johnny, how many bloody times d'ya need me to tell ya? Pick up y'r fuckin boxers after ya've had y'r shower, ya daft twat!" Simon's roaring echoed through the hallways of the base, shaking up the new recruits but just another day to passing soldiers who had been there for longer.

Price and Kyle merely observe the pair from the sofa in their living room as Johnny's form peeks out to an irate Simon who is standing in the doorway to the shared washroom. Johnny is nonchalantly drying off his mohawk that's now touching the nape of his neck as he peers at the rubber ducky boxers pinched between Simon's fingers.

"Why, ye get frightened over a pair o' kecks?" Johnny is totally poking the bear that is Simon 'Ghost' Riley, and Kyle and Price have to stifle their laughter. But truly this was better than reality TV, so they let it go on.

Simon merely blinks down at the impish grin on Johnny's face.

"You fuckin'..." Simon begins to say.

"No, you are fucking YOU ARE FUCKING!" Johnny boasts out and there is a twinkle in his eye and the two are at it.

"Fuck YOU BLOODY BASTARD BITCH!" Simon plays along as he starts shouting back at Johnny and that just riles him up like the giddy puppy he is, continuing the brainrotting bit. Add that to the laundry list of things that's already on the post-mission 141 routine.

And then there's a rapping at the door that cuts off the laughter and the ridiculous comedy skit that Johnny and Simon are playing out.

"I'll get it." Kyle volunteers getting up from the couch to peer through the peephole, but he feels a lump in his throat at the sight.

"What is it, Kyle?" Price asks in a hushed tone. He must've seen the way the Sergeant visibly stiffened.

"It's her." Kyle emphasizes in a way that lets on a little more than he's willing to admit.

"The lassie from the other day?" Johnny pipes up, suddenly very intrigued.

There's a chorused 'Shh!' at Johnny, who's baby blue eyes widen a bit as a small smile appears on his face.

"A'right, sheesh."

The room is quiet for a brief moment before Kyle just decides to bite the bullet and jingle the door open. And there you are, dressed monochrome as hell, like a second skin in your normal attire. Long-sleeve, slate-grey henley fitting snugly around your upper extremities while the black cargos are hugging tightly around your thighs, but is falling baggy below the knee.

He shifts his weight against the doorframe, supping up your every feature, pretending like he isn't falling apart on the inside at your mere presence.

"Can we help you?" He asks, coolly.

Smooth, Kyle. Smooth.

You narrow your eyes at him. "Actually, yes." You mimic the way he folds his arms across his chest before you take a deep breath.

"Laswell sent me over."

Price enters your line of sight, pressing his palm at the base of the casing, and peers down at you with a cocked brow.

"Laswell, you say?"

You shamelessly size up the Captain, not caring how your eyes are lingering a little longer than they should on him and his Sergeant. The pair cock an amused brow at your behavior before you shift on your other foot.

"Yeah, she said you could use my expertise, I suppose." You shrugged indifferently. Whether they choose to bring you on board wasn't really a huge concern of yours. By now, you were sure that they knew of your reputation, so if they took a chance on you right now, you'd be more than elated to join their elite task force even for just one mission. A huge part of you was itching to get back in the field, and honestly, you had a feeling that these men were a lot more resilient and capable of handling themselves enough to not get killed in the line of duty.

Price turns around to Johnny and Simon who approach from behind and they all share a look before peering down at you

"Let's get to work then, yeah?"

It is laborious work withholding himself from not jumping over the table and biting the flirty Scotsman's head off when he sees the way he was making you giggle. Using his boyish charm to woo you as he puts his arm around the back of the sofa to show you just how easy it is to hack into Russian portal sites to access any organized terrorist emails, threads, or private chats on any relevant intel they could muster up.

Making dirty hacker jokes like, "Ye got an access point fer me?"

To which Price shoots Johnny a knowing 'down boy' look and, of course, he just gives him a coy smile in response. It's infuriating.

So instead of simmering like a twat, he gets up to make himself a cup of coffee. And if it weren't for the smell of candied almonds and vanilla drowning into his senses, he would've never felt your presence standing beside him.

"Ya followin' me or are ya actually after a brew?" His eyes fall on you as he moves to lean against the counter and sip at his coffee.

"Make me one?" You ask with a reticent smile.

He swears he can feel the lump in his throat expanding as his pretty honey eyes flicker to you. He licks his dry lips before casting you a half grin and sets aside his mug. Kyle is a gentleman. He would never deny a lady's request. If the lady wants a coffee, then she will get a coffee.

He wordlessly prepares the machine once again, popping in the K-cup, letting it run until the mug is full and offers it to her. She sweetly thanks him and even her voice is enough to get a little rise out of him, but not long enough before he watches her hand the fucking brew to Johnny. Fingers tighten around the handle of the ceramic, but before it can crack a gloved skeleton hand reaches over his own and puts it down for him.

"Don' let tha' twat get to you." Simon's gruff voice cuts into the Sergeant's head. "He's jus' takin' a piss on ya."

They both glance over at the two who are back to being friendly, kicking their feet up before returning to their respective roles. But Johnny flickers his gaze to the hard stare he's feeling on him and gives them a cheeky wink and grin, toasting his mug to him before sipping at it. Kyle scowls at him.

"A Twat, he is."

The day of the mission is like any other day, but your scent is literally driving him into a maniacal state as he's adjusting the laces on his leather boots. This time it's reminiscent of musky prickly pears, and figs that are infused with your natural scent, and it's making him break a sweat.

But he snaps himself back into his domain. He spurns any invitation from you to sidetrack him when he's prepping. Humiliating himself in front of his Captain the last go around certainly exceeds the threshold of mortification he could handle. Add you into the mix and it's a recipe for disaster.

It was a simple enough objective. They were conducting a training exercise. A sweep and search to detect and disarm IEDs that were at a high risk to civilians inhabiting the south side of London without alarming the public. You were specifically instructed to wear concealed weapons, plain clothes, and a cigarette or two to blend in, but damn. Your ass looks so good in those low-rise jeans and the henley that's unbuttoned a little too far down...

Focus, Kyle.

"Mission like this is elementary for someone like you, innit?" Price breaks the silence, as he adjusts the gun in his holster. His brows raise at you as he chews on some cinnamon gum.

You playfully scoff, "Didn't make it this far to die on a simple sweep and search."

"Awe, don't look too doonfaced that ye haven't been sent on a real mission yet." Johnny ribs winking at you.

That earns a little chuckle from the gentlemen around you except for Simon. He's gazing out the window in a far-flung daze, and you bump your knee into him. His dark eyes flicker to you and he bumps your knee back in acknowledgement. Just black cat things.

Surprisingly that doesn't wrack Kyle's nerves. Instead, it just brings a smile to his face. Being aware of your status within the base made the small interactions you shared with them all the more charming. The skittish black cat in you began to emerge from the alleyway, hesitant to be petted but still willing to brush her tail against their calves.

Cute.

"Mate, if you take any longer, 'm gonna blow myself up for fun."

"Oh, feck off."

Playful banter is exchanged between Simon and Johnny, as they work in pairs to disarm the 'bombs' scattered throughout the city while remaining undercover. Thankfully, the five of you were out of earshot from any residents because you'd all have a field day with that one and something tells you that Price doesn't exactly have the patience for that kind of thing.

"Suprised you're not complaining." Kyle speaks up as he surveys you to cut the last wire to neutralize the threat. The grass is dewy, and there's a hum of cars passing on the slick streets as civilians shuffle past, huddled in coats.

"Nice work, [name]." Price praises, seeing that you completed your task. You cast a smile his way.

"Thanks, Cap."

And he's moving back to Johnny and Simon who are too preoccupied with one another to see that their Captain is a bit disgruntled with their lack of urgency.

"They're such knuckleheads." You chuckle to yourself.

Kyle glances over at the three who are now bickering over something that was now completely unrelated to the task. His smile grows.

"That they are."

"So, do I pass or what?" You stood up straight, glancing over at your Captain. He gives you a good-natured grin.

"Don't get too cocky now. It's still an op, y' know?"

You nod your head. He was right about that. It still was an active operation that could flip at any moment. Intrusive thoughts flood your mind and you feel frozen.

"Hey," You feel a grounding hand on your shoulder. You glance up to see Kyle warmly smiling down at you. "You'll be alright. We'll be alright."

Price feels pride wash over him as he looks at his Sergeant and then back at you as he folds his arms over his chest. "This isn't like any team you've ever been on before."

"I've heard the stories." You mimic your Captain's gesture. "barely hangin' off a heli and still managing to rush the enemy? Impressive."

"Upside down at that." Price claps Kyle's shoulder, causing him to become bashful at his Captain's words.

Your Captain averts his gaze to Johnny and Simon, who are on their last disarming. "Are you lot finished, yet?"

He goes on to berate the two who were taking a wee bit too long for his liking, leaving the both of you alone. Kyle awkwardly shifts his weight as he hovers his hand over his gun.

Your gaze is intense on him, not even bothering to pick up any conversation. He can practically see your tail twirling, feeling at ease with his presence while he feels himself gnawing away at his insides to say anything.

He takes a breath. "You're a lot calmer than I thought."

You shrug. "Well, when you've outlasted seven crews, what's eight?"

"Yeah, about that," You both pause for a moment, observing as a throng of pedestrians treks on the sidewalk just a few yards away, but they disappear behind the buildings unaware of your militant presence. "you wanna tell me why you're the only one who's made it out?"

You narrow your eyes at him. He is right to be suspicious, but you didn't feel like being scrutinized for the nth time. You were proven innocent in every situation, but something lingers in the back of your mind that makes you feel guilty every time. The memories of your missions have gone south, the sharp sting of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you dodge ricocheting bullets. But you shake the thoughts away. "Another time, maybe. Don't wanna jinx it, do we now?"

Kyle grins at that. His honey eyes fixate on you, searching your expression for anything that will give way to what you're really thinking.

Before either of you can say more, Price's voice cuts through the air. "Enough chit-chat. We've got one more to disarm and I want it done before anyone catches wind of what we're up to."

The tension between you dissolves as a new one accumulates in your shoulders as you refocus on the task and approach the final IED. You begin to feel the reality of the situation hit you when you realize everything could go insanely wrong. The public may be unaware, but the consequences of failure are all too real. Your consequences, your failure.

Price gestures for you to take the lead on this one, after all, you're the one he's really examining. You don't realize it, but he has full belief in your abilities. He's read your file and he knows damn well what you're capable of. You're under the scrutiny of your teammates, but one shoulder squeeze from your Cap gives you the morale boost to drop to one knee and begin your work.

Upon investigating the device, you realize it's like the other devices and you feel yourself relax a little. Kyle is at your side, and trepidation seeps into your fingers as they cruise over the wires.

"Blue or red?" he asks.

You don't even skip a beat. "Blue." you reply, trusting your instincts. "On my count."

Kyle readies himself with his wire cutters. "One. Two. Three."

You both carefully snip the wires, and for a moment it feels like the world stops. Your eyes watch as the device powers down, neutralizing the threat.

"That's it." you breathe out, feeling relief wash over you as allow your shoulders to relax.

Price steps forward, and claps you both on the back. "Good work, Wisp, both of you. Civvies are starting to get curious around here."

Wisp?

"Yeah, Wisp! Tha's a good one, Cap!" Johnny cheers, holding out his hands to give you a double high five. You giggle at the unexpected enthusiasm, but you high-five him back and intertwined your fingers together and he does a mini jig.

"Did a fine job." Simon politely nods, respecting your space, unlike his idiotic, cutesy counterpart.

Kyle clicks his tongue but is grinning otherwise at your success. The Scotsman can flirt all day with you, but he knows there is some brimming between you two. It was simply a game of cat and mouse at this point.

Wisp.

As you gather your gear, a lingering sense of impending doom still skulks in the back of your mind. You feel an itch under the skin where your past scars have healed over, but it's duller than usual. Pushing it to the back of your mind, you fall into step with Kyle feeling as though something has shifted in your dynamic with everyone.

In that crucial moment, Kyle trusted you. They all trusted you. It lingers in your mind, a question left unasked.

Kyle nudges, catching your gaze. His smile stretches beautifully across his face. "Guess we make a good team don't we, Wisp?"

Wisp.

You can't help but return the smile, feeling the butterflies settle in your stomach. You feel reborn. "Guess we do."

As you walk away from the site, blending back into the hustle and bustle of the city, you can't help but wonder what your next mission will bring. Whether the tension that is rising between Kyle and you will go unspoken. For now, you'll allow yourself to savor your victory. You've come out of it unscathed. They came out of it unscathed. As awful as it was, that's more than what you could ever say about your last teammates.

And as the rain falls softly around you, you feel like the hell you've endured is somehow worth it.

[sc0tters]

Fool For You | Vince Dunn

summary: when Vince sees you with another guy he can’t sit by when you get too close.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), choking, swearing.

word count: 2.38k

authors note: I have never written for Vince until now, so I don’t know if any of this made sense… I like this man though so I hope you guys can sit through reading this.

You and Vince went around in circles.

One month you couldn’t stand the boy and the next you were practically living in his bed.

It was a cycle that your friends couldn’t stand as they watched your heart remain in the hands of the man who didn’t know how to deal with it.

They had brought you out to a bar after rumours of Vince having a new girl in his life came out “I want you to meet someone!” Heidi called out motioning to a guy who had been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes.

He seemed much quieter than what you would go for “hey.” You smiled swirling your drink in your hand.

Tonight you were meant to be saying goodbye to Vince for good as you moved on to someone new “I’m y/n!” You introduced yourself over the sound of blaring music in the speakers.

From across the bar sat on a seat alone Vince was pissed. Watching you smile as the boy you were with leaned down to whisper something into your ear. That little dress you wore was something that the hockey player hated on you.

Not because it barely went over your ass but because Vince didn’t like other guys getting to see you looking the way you did in that dress.

Vince fixed his bow tie as he waited for you to come out of your bathroom “we’re gonna be late!” He groaned looking up from his watch “should I wear these or those?” You asked holding up two different sets of high heels.

The hockey player felt his jaw tense staring at your body from head to toe “you aren’t wearing that.” Vince shook his head getting up from your bed “what’s wrong with this?” You frowned thinking that you looked cute.

It wasn’t often that you got the chance to get all dressed up and you really liked the dress “look I’m not going if you’re going to wear that.” He raised his hands not wanting to argue “give me a sec.” You sighed dropping both pairs of heels as you turned back to your bathroom.

Vince couldn’t help it as that night went through his mind watching you laugh at whatever stupid thing that guy said “are you even listening to me?” The girl who sat next to him scoffed seeing where his eyes had gone.

She was the one who had been rumoured to be his new love connection “you are totally unbelievable,” she added getting off of the chair next to him as she made her way to find someone new.

The hockey player remained sat in his seat until the boy leaned forward to kiss your lips. Vince swore he saw red as he practically took two long strides before he got to your side “hey-” the boy in front of you groaned as he was pulled away from you.

Before they could have a conversation where you could tell Vince to fuck off he instead landed a blow to the boys cheek sending him back tumbling “Vince!” Your eyes went wide as you sent him a harsh glare “c’mon.” The hockey player grumbled wrapping his hand around your arm as he pulled you off of your seat and in the direction of the door.

The humid Seattle September air hit your face “where are we going?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows “get in,” Vince opened the passenger door to his black G-Wagon.

You feet remained stuck to the sidewalk “I’ve only had one beer and I know that you’ve only had one drink.” That was true, despite being at the bar for an hour you had been nursing the same drink all night.

The mental coin toss went on in your head as you contemplated putting up a fight “listen baby, you look so fucking good right now that I just want to get my head between your thighs.” Vince’s words sent shivers down your spine “but I can’t do that if you’re going to be difficult.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw causing you to practically jump into his car.

It shouldn’t have been this easy for him to get you where he wanted it but you were always going to have to try harder to not fall into his hands like putty “what about her?” Your voice was soft as he slammed his car door behind him.

Vince sighed as he turned to face you “she doesn’t matter.” He mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw “yeah she does.” You nodded letting your lips form a frown.

The hockey player rubbed his calloused thumb against your cheek “you are the one in my car baby.” Vince’s words made your hand land on top of his as you nodded.

That moment felt foreign as his eyes stared into yours “wanted you all to myself,” his confession made you smile “really?” The boy nodded as he kissed your lips.

His over hand went to your leg tracing up your skirt “Vince,” you whimpered pulling your lips from his “what do you say we go back to mine?” The hockey player smiled as you nodded.

The drive back to his was quiet, you looked out at the road for the most part silently hating how wet your panties grew at the thought of what Vince was going to do to you “penny for your thoughts princess?” He asked watching you turn around to him with nothing more than a nod “you were a fucking idiot tonight.” You spat sending Vince a glare.

It made him laugh “‘m fucking crazy about you baby.” He confessed pulling into his garage before his car came to a stop.

Your palms grew sweaty as the boy came around to your side to let him open your door for you “shouldn’t even let you get what you want with the way you acted tonight.” Vince ran his fingers through your hair “thinking you are could find someone better than me?” His words continued as your body pressed up against the side of his car.

A whimper left your lips “why don’t you go be a good girl and go sit upstairs for me?” His hand tapped at your thigh as you nodded listening to his instructions as you made your way upstairs.

You removed your shoes reaching behind your back to undo the zipper “keep on disappointing me today baby.” Vince clicked his tongue as he leaned against the frame of his door “sorry Vincey,” you apologised letting your head drop.

Vince smiled as he walked over to you “don’t be,” he forced your head up to look at him “gives me an excuse to fucking rip this dress up now.” Before you could attempt to protest the sound of fabric ripping made you gasp.

You were surprised at how little effort it took from the boy to rip a straight line down the back of the dress “fucking hell baby.” Vince groaned seeing your matching lingerie that was hidden between by the fabric of your dress.

The boy smiled running his fingers over the straps of your bra “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed pressing a kiss on your shoulder “all mine too.” The hockey player added smirking as you looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Vince pushed you onto his bed watching as your body bounced on the comforter “you know that if I was with him he would already be fucking me?” You blinked repeatedly not enjoying the way your body basked in his sight.

Naturally one of your talents was to piss Vince off as you pressed at his buttons “that mouth is forever going to get you in trouble.” He sighed letting his knees fall between your legs “such a pretty baby.” Vince mumbled pecking your lips.

His mouth nipped at your jaw pressing soft marks against your bone. He moved on the journey down to your core sucking at the valley of your breasts, before he moved to your stomach “fuck Vince.” You cried seeing his eyes staring right back up at yours.

Vince smiled as he was faced with your clothed core “let’s get these off baby?” The hockey player asked hooking his fingers in your waistband.

The thong drove down your legs before he threw it across the room “been waiting to see this all fucking day.” Vince let out a grunt as he placed a kiss on your clit.

The sensitive nub sent shivers up your body “Jesus Vince,” you gasped locking your fingers in his hair as his tongue licked up your slit “just me baby.” The hockey player laughed driving his tongue into your core as it lay flat “don’t stop!” You begged as his lips wrapped around your clit making sure to focus most of its attention there as his fingers curled into your cunt.

It was hot has the boy seemed like he was working for his harder than he had worked for his Stanley Cup win. Vince watched as you drove your hips into his face “you’re so hot.” You blurted out making him smirk as your hands dragged through his hair giving it the occasional tug when the pleasure grew too much for you.

Vince felt his cock grow hard as it throbbed against his boxers “I know baby, I know.” He used his free hand to lightly slap your clit repeatedly “shit Vince!” You gasped screwing your eyes shut as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

Before you knew it you were given a rude awakening when Vince retracted his fingers from your core as he smiled seeing you try to protest “you really think you could act like that all night and then get away with it?” The hockey player let out a laugh as he shook his head “want to finally be a good girl and listen to me?” Vince sat up straight as he ran his hands down your thighs.

You whimpered nodding your head repeatedly “please Vince.” You knew your were getting your way when he pulled his shirt over his head.

Within seconds a messy pile of clothes formed serving as a contrast from his clean wooden floor “don’t know how much I missed you.” Vince’s words were soft as he ran his painfully hard cock over your clit “gor a weird way of showing it.” You mumbled sending him a glare “you’re lucky that I need you.” The hockey player let out a grunt as his cock slid into your cunt.

You needed little to no time to adjust to his size, which was good because he wasn’t going to give you it “fuck Vince.” Your head dug into the mattress as he brought your legs up to your sides “not so mouthy now?” Vince smirked picking up the pace of his thrusts as the new angle caused his cock to slide deeper into your pussy.

Your hips tried to ride his in an attempt to help relieve the pressure between your legs “you really think he could have done this for you?” The hockey player scoffed growing annoyed as he thought back to how that guy from the bar ran his fingers across your neck “could have had you gasping for air like this?” Vince let his hand wrap around your throat as he let his calloused fingers squeeze the sides.

Vince smiled to himself as you nodded moaning when his cold chain landed on your chin “only you V.” Your eyelids grew heavy with your brain only focusing on your cunt clenching around his cock “all yours.” Those words made an animalistic switch go off in his head.

The sound of skin slapping suddenly erupted in the room as your cries of pleasure became a mere background noise to it “shit Vince.” You groaned bringing your hands to cup his as you wanted to kiss his lips.

His tongue dragged along your lower lip “my pretty little girl.” Vince cooed as your soaked cunt squelched each time his throbbing cock drove further deeper into it.

Your head pushed back when your breath went shaky “feeling good?” The hockey player smirked as he saw how swollen your lips had become.

It was needy as you whined “so fucking good.” His hand from your throat went to your clit “let the world hear who makes you feel like this.” Vince always liked hearing you scream especially when it was in your apartment where your neighbour was forced to listen through the wall that stood between your bedrooms.

But his bedroom always made him feel differently as it seemed that his walls soaked in your sounds to then speak of the story later “don’t stop Vince.” You begged as the sensations between his cock and his fingers suddenly started to become too much for you.

As your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t help it when your brain went back to how this always ends, you leave in the morning and to your friends annoyance their same lecture then has to be delivered “beg for it baby.” Vince ordered drawing your attention away from your thoughts.

You huffed your chest out “please Vince,” you cried out “only get like this for you.” Your statement was true as no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get rid of him.

How his fingers felt on your skin “fuck I’m coming.” As Vince shot his hot ropes of release into your cunt it caused your orgasm to come over you as the boy made sure to fuck you through it.

Both sets of breaths were heavy “did so good princess.” Vince kissed your lips as his cock slid out of your pussy making your body shudder.

The hockey player watched in amusement as his come oozed out of your cunt “fuck!” You almost jumped when the boys fingers scooped up the release and shoved it back into your pussy “had to make sure none went to waste.” Vince shrugged sending you a grin before he came to lay next to you.

Your fucked out state was enough to make him hard all over again “you were stupid tonight.” Your tone was serious as you knew you had to talk about what he had done “for you I’m a fucking idiot.”

[winstonsns]

this is gonna sound Rlly funny/ridiculous, but... Gang w reader from 2024??? Somehow????? LMAO. i jus thought itd b funny. LOLOL

the gang with 2024!reader (request)

authors note: sorry i’m doing requests late! i have many requests and i’ve been busy. also i have 100 followers!! this post is gonna have a lot of brainrot words so sorry about that LMAO. sorry this post is really short again!! i hope you enjoy!! 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cussing, brainrot slang, alcohol, slightly suggestive but as a joke

PONYBOY CURTIS

you and ponyboy were in his room, reading stupidly romantic books as a joke

the two of you were close to tears due to laughing, both of your stomachs hurting because the book was so cringey

“oh my god! this reminds me of this one tiktok, so this girl was like ‘i think i made the new booktok anthem—‘ wait i told you about booktok, right?” you paused after talking

“yes, yes, very weird. continue on!” your boyfriend said, smiling widely at you

“so basically, the girl was singing, ‘i’m looking for a new book boyfriend. billionaire. six five, brown eyes.’ and would go on and on with the song!! literally everyone made fun of her and she responded to a hate comment, but then a comment on that video was like ‘we love an unbothered queen!!’” laughing at the end of what you said, ponyboy hunching over, dropping the book and wheezing

since he’s a teenage boy, he picked up on your vocabulary very quickly, using words like ‘sigma’ ‘grimace shake’ ‘gyatt’ (but only to you) ‘rizz’ etc

once he was saying those words too much and his brother, darry, got annoyed and said, “pony… just, stop saying those words. please, i’m getting a headache.”

your boyfriend responded with, “you’re such a beta, can’t handle a sigma rizzler like me.” a proud look on his face, darry sighing and walking to a different room

ponyboy thinks you’re the funniest person ever and even started using your vocab when talking to others or about something, and people would stare at him weirdly because they didn’t know what he was talking about, or what the words meant

JOHNNY CADE

you and johnny were outside, staring at the sunset together as a date

he was in your arms, feeling protected by you, you ran your fingers through his hair while the two of you were softly talking to each other

“i love you like how baby gronk loves livvy dunne…” you said with a smile on your face, knowing he’d think it’s funny and would laugh

he let out a loud chuckle, continuing to giggle multiple seconds after

then johnny sat up next to you, saying, “look over there!!” so you gasped, looking to where he was pointing

he lightly grabbed your jaw and moved it towards his direction, giggling when the two of you were making weird faces once you saw each other

you would always tell him that from your time, people would joke and do that gesture all the time but never in a serious way

he really loved the little diy gifts you would make him, telling him you would watch tiktok’s about cute cards to give your partner or friend

along with the pink bows you would put in your hair, sometimes asking him to tie them into your hair, telling him that coquette became back in style in your time

although others would stare at you on the street because they weren’t used to your style, you could care less

he knew you were so unique and perfect, so he would try to show you as much affection as he could to make you stay

SODAPOP CURTIS

“no one can rizz me up as well as you can, sodagyatt…” talking to your boyfriend in a joking tone

“ooh… yes, pookie… talk to me like that… maybe i’ll get you a grimace shake…” he replied, smirking and leaning in for a kiss

you giggled and lightly grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss, his hands on your waist

after the two of you pulled away, you looked into each others eyes before bursting out laughing, falling onto soda and curling up into a ball, your stomach hurting

he picked up on your words very quickly, specifically using the word ‘rizz’ a lot after you told him he had a lot

he began to call his brother, ponyboy, ‘ponygyatt’ because he thought it was funny

whenever one of his brothers did something embarrassing, he would tell them “your aura is decreasing. minus seven hundred points, darry.”

but he absolutely loved your sense of style, the way you would dress because it was from your time, but from his time, everyone wore denim and flannels

DARRY CURTIS

darry, your boyfriend, was baking a chocolate cake for you and his brothers

he was measuring the flour and cocoa powder, pouring them into the bowl

his back was facing you, your jaw dropped and eyes widened, you had a wonderful idea, and went through with it

“GYATTTTTT” you yelled, and spanked your boyfriend hard, on the ass

he yelped and you ran to the other room, him chasing after you, he caught up to you and grabbed you, spanking you too while you laughed

the two of you were out of breath, so you went back to talking like nothing happened, and darry wondered ‘how does she always manage to act like nothing happened..’ but in a funny way

so both of you waked back to the kitchen, going back to work on the chocolate cake dry ingredients

he never really picked up on the slang you used, him being an adult so he never cared much to use those words

plus he had a reputation to keep up, so he didn’t want to use those words but thought when you used them, they were funny

but you made his brothers laugh, and he really appreciated that

when you would help ponyboy with his homework if darry didn’t have the time, if you were confused, you would say something like “what the sigma is this bro!?”

DALLAS WINSTON

you were at your house, making roses made of pages of a book for dally, your boyfriend

then you heard a loud ring, it was your phone, you wondered, ‘who would be calling at this hour? it’s like… 2am, man..”

so you lay on your bed, kicking your feet while you thought about dally, picked up your phone and asked, “y/n l/n, what do you need?”

“mmm… hey baby, uh, i’m at the station right now. do you think you could pick me up? i’m sorry if i woke you up…” your boyfriend said

you gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, kicking your feet and nearly screaming at the thought of seeing your boyfriend, even though the two of you saw each other four hours ago

“say on skibidi to prove that you’re in the station right now.” you teased, wanting him to be embarrassed

you heard a sigh from the other end of the line, dally muttered a “on skibidi..” you giggled, saying you’d pick him up

“love you dal!! i’ll be there in a few minutes, i promise.” you continued, and he responded with a “love you too, doll. look forward to seeing you.” you hung up

he loved how you would ask people weird or rude things, but they wouldn’t understand, once you asked someone “why do you act like a fucking millennial?” and dally had to pull you away, laughing quietly because you told him what a millennial was

or when you quietly said to him, “why is that guy built like a discord mod…?” except you didn’t tell him what that was, so he had a confused look on his face and asked, “what…?”

you’d ask him if you were his skibidi alpha pookie bear, he would sigh but nod his head, repeating what you just said

he thinks you’re really fucking funny though especially if you have brainrot humor, no one besides him understands you and he loves that

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

you and your boyfriend, keith, were at a store when you saw a couple making out

the girl looked young, too young, and the guy looked in his mid 30s, but they were acting very touchy and sexual

“erm, what the sigma..” you said in a certain voice, two-bit looking at you, shaking his head and sighing, trying to keep a straight face

then he couldn’t hold is any longer he chuckled and looked at where you were looking

he mumbled a “what the fuck…” squinting his eyes, blinking multiple times to see if he was seeing what he thought he was

what looked like a young girl full on making out with a guy who looked like he was in his mid 30s, you and your boyfriend looked at each other, eyes wide

then the two of you bursted out laughing, you unintentionally but loudly said, “bro is NOT a certified lover boy, certified—“ but two-bit covered your mouth, seeing the couple pass by you

once they passed and got to a certain distance, the two of you giggled to the point of your stomach hurting

when you started saying some slang from the 2000s, he picked up on it and started saying it too

when he started saying that type of slang around the gang, they had no idea what he meant and thought he was crazy

he even changed the lyrics to an elvis song into a ‘brainrot remix’ according to him

whenever he wanted to annoy someone because they wouldn’t know what he was doing or talking about, he would do a ‘shh’ motion, a finger up to his lips, then moving his finger to his jaw, tracing his jawline to his chin, which you taught him and called it mewing

he also did it when he wanted someone to be quiet, they would be confused so they would shut up

but when he picked up a bottle of alcohol, jokingly twitching and shaking, trying to act like he was tweaking, you said, “boy, it’s just alkahal!!” and he nearly dropped the bottle, chuckling loudly

STEVE RANDLE

“shh… i’m about to mew…” putting your pointer finger to your lips, moving it to your jaw, tracing down your jawline to your chin, doing the motion again but on the opposite side of your jaw

“the fuck are you talkin’ about?” a slight sense of concern in steve’s voice, people staring at the two of you as you walked down the street

he never really used the slang from your time, he thought it was funny but really stupid, so he never used it because he didn’t want to make people confused

he was a smart person, but of course people wouldn’t expect that because of the way he acted

besides that one time when he was with the gang, two-bit said something stupid, so steve said, “shut up you beta, you have a negative canthal tilt and a negative aura.”

they stared at him weirdly then all began to laugh, not knowing where he got those words from

but he loved your style, you had money but it was hard to find clothes from your time

authors note: i decided to post again because i feel bad for missing the post yesterday. i guess the one i posted at midnight counted for yesterday!! i get out of school super soon so i can post more yayyyy!!!

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

[secondlina]

I just saw your post about inking pages for Crowmance (which I adore by the way), and now I’m curious. What kinds of pens do you use?

Also, would you have any tips for inking to share? I find my inking to be shaky and I am looking for ways to improve.

I don't really have tips that are that useful, since I learned to ink by just doing a lot of it and saving cool panels with textures I wanted to try. It was extremely trial and error. However, I do suggest you check out books by Alphonso Dunn. There's a lot of vintage how to draw manga books where they got industry professionals to show off, which are nice. https://www.amazon.com/Pen-Ink-Comikers/dp/1569709173

I also love all the videos of Kaoru Mori inking (author of Bride Stories) that have been posted to youtube.

I use pretty basic pens - I've used these since I was a teen. Pilot Fineliner and Sakura micron pens. Nothing special - you can buy them at pharmacies here. I like soft squishy nibs.

While I don't think you need fancy pens & paper to ink well, the quality of the paper does have an impact on the art based on if the pen snags on the paper texture, and whether or not the paper absorbs the ink well. I tend to use smooth bristol board and Japanese Maruman sketchbooks. While it's not really high grade (and remains affordable), it's smoother paper than you basic pencil drawing sketchbook. That helps!

[void-detective]

Impending Doom

((GIF NOT MINE!! Dividers made by cafekitsune))

Authors note: There's no fics for this man so I took it upon myself to do a service. This is my first reader x story 😭 I'm sorry if it's a little awkward!

Warnings: teasing, slightly suggestive(?, and simping

Word count: 1,229

Edited 4/23/24: Part two here!

Summary: With your soft spot for dominant heels in the industry, it only seemed inevitable that he would eventually get to you. Although nervous at first your friend helps encourage you to approach the Intercontinental champion, hopefully it goes well.

Day 639 of Gunther's Intercontinental Championship run

You always had a soft spot for heel wrestlers, whether it be Miz or someone like Pete Dunne. You always enjoyed loving the bad guys over the good guys when I came to wrestling. So you really shouldn't have been surprised when you ended up liking Gunther, right? No one matched the pure strength and dominance of the when it came to being a force to be wreckin with.

You were seated with Rollins backstage to watch a match between Jey Uso and Gunther for his Intercontinental Championship. You had a hunch on who was probably going to win even if you knew everyone adored the Main Event, Jey Uso. You leaned back in the seat watching Jey finish up his entrance and peered over at Seth who was leaned back holding his own championship close on his lap while watching.

As soon as the lights went out in the area and you heard the first few notes of Symphony No. 9, you were inching closer to the edge of your chair. You ignored the look Seth gave you as you watched Gunther walk out in front of the titantron, lifting his head at the cue of music as the Imperium graphics lit up the screen. With his hands folded behind his back and the gold secured around his waist, Gunther walked down towards the ring.

He stepped up the stairs and made his way to the apron where he wiped his feet back and forth before going under the ropes. Once in the ring, Gunther raised the championship before looking at Jey across the ring with a smirk. He walked across the ring holding the title towards his face and turned to hand it off to the referee with a bit of a scowl.

Each chop delivered across Jey’s chest sent an echo through the arena and you found yourself sitting at the edge of your seat as Gunther picked him up. With a slam into the middle of the ring, Jey was sent down from the powerbomb before the champion went in and pinned him.

The three count ended as Gunther retained and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding as you relaxed your shoulders. You heard Seth chuckle and looked over your shoulder at him as you raised a brow.

“I never seen you so tense over a match Y/N.” Rollins chuckled in amusement as he leaned forward and raised a brow at you in question. “So it's Gunther now? I guess I'm not surprised.” The architect snorted when you scowled at him and waved at you in a dismissive way.

“Have you ever spoken to the guy?” You leaned back in your seat to look more directly at Seth as you tilted your head curiously. You knew he had previously spoken to Gunther in a promo while injured but that was as much as you saw.

“Outside the ring? Nah, but I heard he's a pretty chill guy behind the scenes though. I'd still be careful though, the rest of the Imperium followed him everywhere.” The champion added with a frown as he propped his leg over the other with the hurt one on top. His face showed mostly amusement and curiosity as he watched you stand up.

“Thanks Seth, I'll be careful.” You nodded in agreement as you patted your friend's shoulder as you moved further backstage. You moved past other superstars as you glanced at the people standing around the hallway.

You kept searching till you recognized the black ring attire of the two main Imperium members, along with the large figure of Gunther. You bit your lip feeling your nerves wrecking up all the sudden as you took a deep breath and approached the stable slowly, trying to appear as friendly as possible.

Ludwig immediately took notice of you and raised a judgemental brow as he moved in front of Gunther along with Giovanni stepping to his side with a stiff looking glare. “Can we..help you lass?” Kaiser questioned with a suspicious tone as he folded his arms behind his back.

“Uh, yeah I was wondering if I could talk to Gunther?” You whispered trying to not sound intimidated considering most of them were a lot taller than you. Your brows furrowed in betrayal of your attempt to appear collected as you curled your fingers in your jacket out of habit. You felt like your heart might as well beat out your chest and you might die on the spot but you tried to retain a calm and confident look.

The pair exchanged a look as Kaiser raised an eyebrow before peering over their shoulder at the leader of Imperium. Gunther was removing the tape from his wrist and only gave you half a glance over his shoulder before simply nodding. The other two members moved aside, giving you accusing looks as you slowed inched past towards the Intercontinental champion.

You swallowed hard and stopped just a few feet from him looking up at him as you smiled folding your hands in front of yourself. Please don't let me look like a nervous wreck. You thought to yourself as the Ring General turned to look at you with an unreadable expression crossing his features.

“How can I help you Y/N?” Gunther frowned as he rubbed his face with a towel so he wasn't sweating as much as he looked back at you, not giving much of an expression like the other two had.

“Oh uh, I just wanted to say I thought you were an amazing heel and that you really deserve to be the longest reigning champ. I really admire your work and I uh..I've been watching a lot of your matches as of late.” You chuckled before feeling your cheeks heat up noticing you basically gushed and rambled to him and looked down at the floor as you fidgeted with the jacket.

God damnit.

Gunther only chuckled in an amused way as he smirked and raised a brow seemingly getting a boost in his ego and both prided being praised so openly. His arms now folded over his chest as he seemed to almost size you up only making you feel smaller.

“Really? I'm not used to getting compliments from female superstars but I appreciate the admiration.” He couldn't hide the pure amusement in his tone as he furrowed his brow leaning down slightly to your height. Maybe he could take advantage of the opportunity just to mess with you, your reactions only fueled his amusement anyway.

“But I'd be careful.” His austrian accent became more noticeable in his low, almost dangerous tone. His eyes glimmering in a condescending and mocking way as he stared you down even at this height now. “Running around getting involved with me might just get you..in trouble.” Gunther muttered and let out a small chuckle at the way your cheeks burned brighter.

Giovanni and Kaiser came into view at either side of Gunther while the General watched you like a predator about to take down prey. The other two men smirked too as they exchanged a knowing glance then looked back at the leader of the stable. The last words of the bigger male wrestler left a shiver up your spine when he spoke again in a low tone.

“I would hate to break something so fragile.”

[parkerslatte]

Songbird

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: sexual assault, drugs, alcohol, sexual content.

Summary: Up and coming singer, Y/N L/N is mostly known across the Sunset Strip for her deep and sultry voice. Despite this, she isn't signed to any label. It was her one dream to perform for people all over the world. Stuck working at a record store and living with two girls who don't even know her name, Y/N continues to perform gigs in McNasties, hoping to catch the attention of a producer.

While performing at McNasties, Y/N meets up and coming band, The Dunne Brothers. Just from listening to a few of their songs alone, Y/N knew they would be big in the future. How big she definitely underestimated.

Moving in with the band only a week after meeting them, she binds with them all and they all become fast friends - all bonding over the experience of trying to become successful.

Y/N was there for the tours, the performances and the arguments and now she's telling her part in the story.

Started: 3rd April 2023

Finished: 15th May 2023

Total Word Count: 60,747

Masterlist

Taglist

•••

Contents:

Track One; Oh No!

Track Two; Here We Go Again

Track Three; Exactly What I Want

Track Four; Dance Past Midnight

Track Five; Days Go By

Track Six; Sleeping With a Friend

Track Seven; Killer Queen

Track Eight; This is Trouble

Track Nine; Baby Said

Track Ten; Bubblegum Bitch

Track Eleven; Don’t Act Like You Don’t Know

Track Twelve; Maneater

Track Thirteen; Kill You With A Wink Of Her Eye

Track Fourteen; Ballroom Blitz

Track Fifteen; Sip the Gossip

Track Sixteen; I Want Some More

Track Seventeen; Out of my Depth

Track Eighteen; I Don’t Know Where I Belong

Track Nineteen; Nobody Loves a Gloomy Face

Track Twenty; Summertime Sadness

Track Twenty-One; Running Away From This Conversation

Track Twenty-Two; The Things You Love You Lose

Track Twenty-Three; Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Track Twenty-Four; Look At Us Now

•••

SOUNDTRACK

I. fleetwood mac; SONGBIRD

II. marina; OH NO!

III. nelly furtado; MANEATER

IV. neon trees; ANIMALS

V. stevie nicks; EDGE OF SEVENTEEN

VI. toby sebastian, florence pugh; MIDNIGHT

VII. queen; KILLER QUEEN

VIII. sweet; BALLROOM BLITZ

IX. arctic monkeys; I WANNA BE YOURS

X. neon trees; SLEEPING WITH A FRIEND

XI. the orion experience; THE QUEEN OF WHITE LIES

XII. marina; BUBBLEGUM BITCH

XIII. the lumineers; HO HEY

XIV. måneskin; BABY SAID

XV. lana del rey; SUMMERTIME SADNESS

XVI. måneskin, tom morello; GOSSIP

XVII. florence + the machine; YOU'VE GOT THE LOVE

XVIII. daisy jones and the six; LOOK AT US NOW (HONEYCOMB)

•••

Authors note:

- This is an x reader version I am publishing. The original name of the character is Felicity Fletcher (so if the name is accidentally left in there that is the reason why)

- This fic will mainly follow the show with some things taken from the book.

- Finally I hope you will all enjoy this story. If anyone would like anymore information feel free to send an ask or message me :)

[kittyit]

Since you're a Gillian Flynn fan I figured I'd ask if there's any chance you've read works by any other authors that feel similar. I loooove her work and all the time I'm like "I wish there was more to read :(" Thanks, even if you don't have an answer :D

I have literally read 50+ books that promise to be for fans of Gillian Flynn and nothing hits the same. It's a cruel marketing technique that I fall for every single time. Crawling back to the library disappointed. However I will say in the same vein of compelling and incredibly dark is AM Homes, but she often goes WAY further than Flynn. I'd say starting with The Safety of Objects (short stories) to see if she's your taste, and if she is, she is incredibly prolific. I also would say another closest thing is The Devil of Nanking by Mo Hayder, but I also would suggest reading The Rape of Nanking by Iris Chang alongside that. Geek Love by Katherine Dunn also has the very tight character focus & crazy emotional lines to trace. We Need To Talk About Kevin is also kind of in the mix and the film adaptation was actually fantastic. So those are my closest to Flynn but nobody really does it like her and I think that's a good thing

[mariacallous]

Griffin Dunne has just written a book. He had been meaning to do so for ages. It was one of the items on his bucket list: learn a musical instrument, master Spanish and write his damn memoir. “One down, two to go,” he says, beaming in via video link from his home in upstate New York. The actor and film-maker turns 69 this weekend. He reckons that still leaves him time for the music and Spanish.

Dunne imagined his memoir as a family portrait in the style of David Sedaris’s Me Talk Pretty One Day. He pictured something light on its toes, witty and poignant, a weave of essays and anecdotes. But then the book changed direction, as though it had a will of its own. It went where it wanted and needed to go. He says: “On some level, I knew there was this big subject ahead. And so, as I’m writing the book, I’m thinking: oh, OK, I know where this is going now.” The story leads to the scene of a 40-year-old crime. It revisits the death of Dunne’s younger sister, Dominique, and the grisly murder trial that followed.

I tell Dunne I really like the book, which sounds crass in the circumstances, but is true. While The Friday Afternoon Club is about the death of a loved one, it’s full of light, life and colour. It’s a startling tale of precarious American privilege, spotlighting a family that is blessed and cursed.

Dunne casts himself as the Hollywood prince at its centre, surrounded by famous faces, clamouring to be noticed. He tells how Sean Connery rescued him from the family swimming pool, how Billy Wilder critiqued his childhood pranks and how he roomed with Carrie Fisher before she went off to make Star Wars (“This movie is going to be a fucking disaster,” she said). Dunne was raised among storytellers (his dad and uncle were authors; Joan Didion was his aunt) and he writes with a loose, easy swagger. His memoir is tart, buoyant and playful right up to the moment it’s not.

In the early 1980s, when he was in his 20s, Dunne was hitting his stride as an actor. He had secured his breakout role in 1981’s An American Werewolf in London, playing the undead grad student Jack Goodman, doomed to haunt the adult cinemas of Soho. His 22-year-old sister was also faring well, having co-starred in 1982’s Poltergeist. But, on 30 October 1982, Dominique was strangled by her ex-boyfriend, John Sweeney, and died in hospital five days later. The trial, says Dunne, was outrageous, a farce. Implicitly, it seemed to put the Dunnes in the dock, framing the bereaved family members as frivolous dandies. Sweeney was convicted of manslaughter, but acquitted of murder. He served just three and a half years in prison.

Four decades on, Dunne’s account of events burns with rage. He is furious with the judge who intervened to block crucial evidence. He is furious with the killer’s employers (the Los Angeles restaurant Ma Maison), who stepped in to pay his legal fees. He is furious with Dominique’s then co-star, David Packer, who remained inside the house while Dominique was being attacked outside. “All the old anger got re-stoked,” he says. “I tapped right back into my vengeful side.”

During the trial, Dunne was approached by a mobster who offered to have Sweeney killed. He discussed the idea with his brother, Alex. “At that time, we would have been diagnosed as crazy people,” he says. “I told my brother that we had an opportunity to have the killer dealt with in the county jail. We decided not to kill him, but to mess him up, to have his hands smashed, like we were ordering pizza and choosing different toppings from the menu. And that was just the beginning of our madness; it carried right through. Even writing it down, I thought: I’ve got to let this go, because you can’t live in hate.”

In the end, they did nothing. Dominique’s killer changed his name after being released from prison and is likely still alive today. “I will neither forgive nor forget,” Dunne says. “But I’m not going to let that be the A-story of my sister’s life.”

Dominique was a victim, but that doesn’t make her life tragic. What is clear from the book is that people adored her. She comes across as whip-smart and droll, grounded and private. “She was a serious, substantial person,” he says. “Serious about her acting, her animals, her family. And, actually, rather intimidating, even though she was the youngest of the family.”

Dominique cared for their mother, Ellen, who had multiple sclerosis. She also cared for their father, Dominick, who was bisexual and closeted and yet confided in her. “So she was somebody we were all a bit in awe of. She was always wise beyond her years.”

She sounds like the family’s moral compass. “Yeah,” he says. “But also a bit bossy. She always knew what she wanted. My brother and I were a little fearful of her. It was like she’d been born already built.”

Dunne, by contrast, was a work in progress. In his memoir, he says that his first word was “taxi” and that he was always in a hurry – always running before he could walk. He was expelled from school for smoking pot. He was “coked to the gills” on the night Dominique was attacked. He was bumptious and entitled. His sister’s death changed him, he says, because how on earth could it not?

“For one thing, I never thought about domestic violence, the abuse of women. I grew up in Los Angeles and when I was in high school, pre-Roman Polanski, it was incredibly common for 13- or 14-year-old girls to be dating guys in their 30s. They’d go to these decadent parties in the hills and then come back and tell us all about it. And that was the culture; it felt exciting. I was unaware of what it meant. But then you have my sister, a 22-year-old girl, who finds herself in a domestic violence relationship with someone who’s twice her weight. So everything looked different to me afterwards.”

Perhaps it affected his career as well. In the mid-1980s, Dunne was on the threshold of stardom. He combined the charm and grace of a leading man with the prickly intelligence of a great character actor. The door kept swinging open, but he seemed to keep shutting it. He turned down The Fly and Sex, Lies, and Videotape in favour of making Who’s That Girl, with Madonna, and a reviled comedy, Me and Him, in which he played a yuppie architect who quarrels with his talking penis.

Dunne’s agent accused him of making “self-destructive choices”. He had always craved fame, only to find that it spooked him. “Too much attention at that time was a little fearsome for me,” he says. “I found it very stressful.” He hesitates. “And also my father,” he adds. “That had a lot to do with it, too.”

Dominick is the third main player in The Friday Afternoon Club, a high-flying producer who came to earth with a crash. He would eventually find his voice as a writer. He became Vanity Fair’s star reporter, first covering the Sweeney case, then the OJ Simpson and Claus von Bülow trials. But the in-between years were hard and humiliating. He suffered a reversal of fortune that took the whole family aback.

“I saw my father fail,” Dunne says. “I watched real failure in action in real time. He was a man who had a big house and a beautiful car and a great job and entertained the most famous actors and directors in the world. And everything was taken away from him, partly through his own actions, but nonetheless. People came out of the woodwork, kicked him when he was down.

“They were like: ‘I always hated you, I always knew you were closeted, you’ll never work again, pack your bags.’ And the effect it had on me, just entering the business as he was being destroyed in that business …” He draws a breath. “Well, it had a lot to do with the choices I made.”

In hindsight, the 1985 black comedy After Hours was his fork in the road. It’s also the picture with which he is most identified. Dunne developed the film as a co-producer and convinced Martin Scorsese to direct. He also took the lead role of repressed Paul Hackett, who embarks on a long, dark night of the soul through the streets of Lower Manhattan.

On set, Scorsese made one big stipulation. He ordered Dunne not to have sex for the duration of the shoot. I am gobsmacked by this, but the actor was unfazed. “It made perfect sense to me,” he says. “I knew what he meant. The character had to be boiling over with this unfulfilled anxiety. You had to see …” He pauses. “Not to be crude, but you had to see the semen build up to where it’s practically coming out of his eyes.”

One Saturday night, though, Dunne cracked and broke the rule. The next day of filming, Scorsese spotted the change and went berserk. “You’ve fucked up the whole picture,” he shouted. “I don’t think I can finish it now.”

Dunne says that he was probably being directed here, too. “Because now I’m afraid. I’m terrified. And it turns out that a certain level of fear is the same as not having sex. So [Scorsese’s] second piece of direction is telling me that I’ve ruined his movie. That’s excellent direction. It brought all the old anxiety back.”

It should have been a tough prospect, sitting down to write his book. Emotionally, because it meant revisiting the worst time of his life. Practically, because the Dunne family had already set the bar high. They are all dead now: his dad in 2009; his journalist-screenwriter uncle, John Gregory Dunne, in 2003; Joan Didion in 2021. But their reputations are daunting. It must have felt as though he were writing in the shadow of Mount Rushmore.

Dunne says it wasn’t that way at all. He had always assumed that writing a book would be a lonely endeavour. In fact, it felt warm, intimate and weirdly convivial. “I didn’t feel daunted, trying to write and being related to all these prominent figures. Quite the opposite. I felt their presence. When I described them, it was like I was seeing them again, living with them again. It was like I was back meeting Joan for the first time. It was as though I was spending time with her and John, my father and my sister,” he says. “They were alive to me. When I finished the book, that was the sad part. It felt like I missed them all over again.”

[the-bi-library]

Bi/bisexual books out in May! ❤️💜💙

We have 30 bi books out this month! Here is the goodreads list of these books 💕

Preorders help the authors greatly, so make sure to preorder any book(s) that catch your interest 💕

Make sure to check the TWs and ratings for all the books if necessary 💕

Books listed

💕 Imogen, Obviously by Becky Albertalli 💕 That Summer Feeling by Bridget Morrissey 💕 Love at First Set by Jennifer Dugan 💕 They Hate Each Other by Amanda Woody 💕 Forever Is Now by Mariama J. Lockington 💕 The Battle Drum by Saara El-Arifi 💕 City of Vicious Night by Claire Winn 💕 Ava's Demon, Book One: Reborn by Michelle Fus 💕 Something Like Possible by Miel Moreland 💕The Secret Summer Promise by Keah Brown 💕 Queried Sick by Dallas Smith 💕 The Luis Ortega Survival Club by Sonora Reyes 💕 Wake by Jae Waller 💕 Pantheon Girls by Jean Copeland 💕 The Girl Next Door by Cecilia Vinesse 💕 Boyslut: A Memoir and Manifesto by Zachary Zane 💕 Wild Things by Laura Kay 💕 A Shadow Crown by Melissa Blair 💕 If You Still Recognise Me (Hardcover Edition) by Cynthia So 💕 To Shape a Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose 💕 Bitterthorn by Kat Dunn 💕 Orphia and Eurydicius by Elyse John 💕 They Ain’t Proper by M.B. Guel 💕 Your Love is Not Good by Johanna Hedva 💕 Dragonfall by L.R. Lam 💕 The Scandalous Letters of V and J by Felicia Davin 💕 Trials of the Innermost by Jonathan Fuller 💕 Fiddle and Fire by Ariella Talix 💕 The Blighted Stars by Megan E. O'Keefe 💕 Season of Skulls by Charles Stross

[mrsnancywheeler]

Romanticing an abusive relationship with billy Dunne... great.

so welcome to fiction, where people can write about whatever they want in a safe, contained way. it's my blog, I'll write what I want and also one of my most popular fics on this blog is literally about stu macher from scream so, let's be so fr rn. additionally I got on tumblr as an author of dark fics, something I've veered away from a lot, but I still explore toxic dynamics in my writing. even finnick and his sweet girl with the codependency. I'm an author, I'm not saying it's okay, I'm exploring complicated characters in the things I write. if it makes you uncomfortable, don't interact, you have the ability to scroll. and people love dark fics and those types of dynamics totally independent of whatever I write, they're fantasy and a healthy way to tap into those desires and all the things they may represent.

there's so much more I could say about this but I just don't have the time, I'm sure you have much bigger fish to fry then a random tumblr blog who writes fanfiction about billy dunne, a fictional fucking rockstar, and a toxic relationship. no one is forcing you to be here ❤️

[tapedsleeves]

get rec'd - just so so so late

hi. it's me again, hargaret. It's been a while.

Follow me out of this abyss - by @kllovk

nathan mackinnon / jonathan drouin, E, 30,427

An interesting take on A/B/O dynamics that had me captivated until the end.

fragile like a bomb by @zepuckinghockey

Adam Larsson / Vince Dunn, E, 3878

Adam is just looking for a good time in the heat room. Surely Vince is good at sex. Right? this is suuuch a fun premise. I love it when sex doesn't go perfectly i love it when dynamics are a little malleable, i loved this fic thru & thru.

running from ghosts by remyjane

nicklas backstrom / alex ovechkin, M, 19301

Nicke is secretly a prince. this fic doesn't feature heavy on romance but it is REALLY big on hurt / comfort and I LOVED it.

dare not speak its name by @droumack

nathan mackinnon / jonathan drouin, E, 42,622

Nate and Jo weren’t actually always friends. I gotta say - this short and sweet title didn't give me much to go on, but it did entice me. I waited for this fic to be completed with baited breath. I was soooo excited to read it. And when i did, i was blown away. This was SUCH a unique take on Dom/Sub dynamic fics and i was REALLY into Jo's POV even while he was being the most oblivious person on earth. Just. all around a perfect 5 out of 7 stars.

care and feeding by @spangledleatherponcho

tim stuzle / brady tkachuk, E, 10260

Brady learns something about Timmy. Aka the bunnicula fic. sometimes you learn your bunny best friend is a vampire and maybe you're into it.

i don't want to live love this way by @lurlur

vince dunn / adam larsson, e, 7057

a breakup in slow motion. this is SUCH a heartbreaking fic, because they break up and do NOT get back together which isn't normally my jam, but this is just. so well written and heartbreaking. Adam and Vince both have such unique and well reasoned POV's and I really, really love it.

to climb two mountains by @gaybroons

tyler myers / quinn hughes / nikita zadorov, E, 2191

read the title. you know what this is about. it's really really hot & well written DP.

i'm ready to journey again by thunderingskies

quinn hughes / elias petterson, E, 12192

Quinn and Petey were hooking up and it takes a long time for Quinn to realize that his feelings go way beyond that. This fic is just. oh man i love a good fwb to lovers fic and this one is *chef's kiss*

from this day forward series by @wymgreenteam

Nico Hischier / Jack Hughes ( / Jonas Siegenthaler), E, 91664

This series is based on a Swiss Royal Nico, arranged marriage to Jack & secretly in love with them both Jonas (in the sequel). Listen. This fic has everything. Enemies to lovers. Best friends to lovers. Polycules. Angst. I love it so so so much and reread it regularly. It's one of my favorite comfort fics.

take my hand, take my whole life too by @thatsnotbuddies

Jack Eichel / Noah Hanifin, T, 1817

jack and noah get vegas married. this fic is SO soft and SO lovely.

soft as it began by @droumack

nathan mackinnon / jonathan drouin, E, 41499

Nate & Jo get drafted together as mates - but Nate insists at first that it's platonic. I really liked this one as well, this author really has a way with angst that i really really dig.

[mack-devereaux]

Comfort

Vince Dunn

Authors note: Vince is my comfort player. I love him. So it’s only fitting that I write about him in a comfort fic. No clue on word count. Pictures are from Pinterest. I think the only trigger is like 3 curse words? And a little bit of angst, just a tiny bit.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~

Isn’t it strange? There are so many people out there who secretly love someone. And yet there are so many people who have no idea that someone secretly loves them.

~~~~~~

Vince was new to Seattle. He had just gotten traded, he knew it was coming, but yet he wasn’t prepared for how much of a difference it would be. In St. Louis he had his friends. But here, he was so new he didn’t have friends yet and with his family in Canada he was struggling trying to settle in. He just wanted someone to talk to and hang out with. His floor in his apartment complex was very quiet, as far as he knew there were only two tenants, him and a very very quiet person, as far as the other rooms, they were used for storage. He never saw his neighbor nor had he heard them when they came and went. Until today that is, he was texting on his phone while walking down the hallway when all of a sudden something, or someone, smacked right into his chest.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention I—“ the cute blonde stopped speaking immediately when she looked at him “wow your eyes are really pretty.” Vince grinned. Kinda taken aback by the chatty girl. “Oh I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m sorry, I’ll pay more attention next time” the girl stuttered.

“It’s really not a big deal. I’m Vince” he stuck out his hand. The girl took his hand and she swore electricity shot up her arm. “Y/n” she smiled dropping her hand and reaching for her apartment keys.

“Well for the record y/n you have very beautiful eyes as well” he added with a wink and a panty dropping smile. He felt an odd sense of calm and peace when they touched hands. “Do you flirt with all your neighbors Dunner?” She asked.

“Wait how do you—“ his eyebrows pinched together, she knew who he was.

“I work for the Kraken sometimes. I’m one of the extra medics they call in when you guys get too crazy out there. It’s my job to know who you guys are. But you should get going before you’re late to training” she leaned into her doorway of her apartment.

“Shit, yea. Well I guess I will see you around then, don’t be a stranger. You can come hang out anytime, I’m only a door away” he smiled and started to walk down the hall to go to the gym. Looking back over his shoulder he noticed her watching him “you too Vince”.

*a few weeks later*

Y/n was sitting on her couch alone, only because Vince was out of town on a roadie. She didn’t realize how much she had gotten used to his presence until he was gone. Literally. He was constantly in her apartment, and if he wasn’t at her place she was at his. At this point they were the equivalent to roommates. Vince tried to convince himself it was because he felt calm and peace around her, not that he had a massive crush on her. He made the mistake of telling his friend Sam about her and he hasn’t heard the end of it.

Y/n wasn’t mad about constantly having the cute hockey player in her apartment over the last few weeks, however she did wish he gave some heads up when he came over though. There’s been many times he just barged in when she was looking like a mess or had just crawled out of bed with her hair everywhere. He claimed it was a cute look for her but she was still mortified. He was like sex on legs, he constantly looked amazing. Between his dark curls and his bright green eyes she knew she was fucked. Plus his constant flirting and the need for physical touch was not helping her case. She quickly picked up that physical touch was how he needed reassurance. He always mentioned how she kept him grounded and not in his head, she took that as a huge compliment, he didn’t seem like the type to let people in very easily.

Her phone vibrated on the table, bringing her out of her trance she had fallen into, she reached out and saw a text from Vince.

From Dunner 😈:

Hey babygirl, you able to talk?

Babygirl, the name he called her when it was just them, she loved it. It often became Babe around his friends and teammates. But she wasn’t mad about that nickname either. She hit the call button and waited for him to answer.

“Someone’s impatient” she rolled her eyes when he answered.

“You’re the one who texted me, I figured it would be a waste of time by texting you, just to have you call me” y/n explained.

“That’s fair. What are you up to?” He said, he sounded tired.

“Laying on my couch” y/n said.

“Sexy, what are you wearing” he smiled.

“Vince” she rolled her eyes “don’t make it weird.”

He laughed “come on babygirl live a little, I know you’re wearing my shirt.”

Glancing down she scoffed “no I’m not” yes she was, “How was your game” she quickly changed subjects.

“I knew it” he grinned biting his lip. He loved when she wore his clothes. “It was good, did you watch?”

“I always do” she sighed “when do you come back?”

“I knew you missed me” he chirped.

“Quit teasing me or I will hang up” she pouted. Messing with the hem of the worn out shirt.

“No you won’t, you miss me too much. But I’ll be back in a few days babe” he yawned.

“I’m gonna fall asleep soon” she said also yawning.

“You should stay up, I wanna keep flirting with you” he whined.

“You’re ridiculous” she laughed.

“You never flirt back, it’s boring” he said.

“Umm yes I do, you’re just super attractive and it makes me nervous to flirt with you too much, I never know when you’re being serious” she laughed.

“I’m always serious babe” he said, after a note of silence on her end he added “get some sleep, I’ll talk to you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, goodnight Vince.”

As y/n hung up he looked at his lock screen photo of them. They were out at a club with the team, she was in a dark blue dress and he was wearing a black t shirt and dark jeans. She was sitting on his lap with his arm around her back and they were taking selfies. He had just touched her exposed shoulder with his cold beer bottle when she jumped. Then he snapped a photo of them mid laugh. It was his favorite picture of them. For as much as he teased her about her missing him, he was certain he missed her way more. Being away from her was weird. Especially since they had only met a short while ago. He’s never clicked with someone this quick before. He didn’t know what to make of it. His friend Sam had tried giving him advice on asking her out but he wasn’t sure how she felt about the situation. A text came through bringing him back to reality.

From Babygirl 🥵:

Goodnight 💕

To Babygirl 🥵:

Goodnight babe

~~~~~~

We looked at each other just a little too long to be just friends.

~~~~~~

*a few weeks later*

Y/n was adding some final touches to her makeup before she heard her door unlock.

“I’m coming!“ she shouted as she grabbed a hair tie to throw on her wrist. She walked out into the living room seeing Vince drop his duffel bag by the door, he was wearing a dark game day suit and his curls were styled perfectly. It’s a shame that hair will be covered by a helmet soon. Damn he looked good.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah, just let me grab a few things,” she grabbed her purse and her water bottle. She was going to the game tonight because they were playing the Canucks, the Kraken tend to get a little rough with each other when they played teams close to them. Mainly because the crowd was always intense and got the energy going in the arena. So naturally Vince had convinced her to carpool with him, with games like this he always got a little hotheaded. Just having y/n around him seemed to keep him calm. Which he would need after tonight’s match up with their Canadian neighbors. She was his first friend here, and somehow between the late night talks and flirting he had fallen for her. Even some of the teammates had noticed how he kept her close to him, literally and figuratively. Little did he know that she had fallen for him too. How could she not. The two of them just fit so perfectly together. The drive to the game was filled with flirty banter and small talk.

~~~

The game was a bloodbath. Penalties were called left and right. Players were coming off the ice like crazy with cuts and bloody noses and injuries constantly. It was a good thing they called in backup, which they definitely utilized. She was right behind the players bench watching everyone with such intensity, even the other team. The end of the second period was nearing, she couldn’t wait for the team to have an intermission to cool down. The energy in the arena was out of this world. She had been to plenty of games before, but none had been this intense.

Then it happened, gloves came off and it was a blur of blue and white wrestling on the ice, punches and insults thrown around like nothing. She forgot how to breathe once she realized it was Vince who was fighting. As a medic she was used to blood, especially at the hockey games, it never bothered her but it was different seeing Vince bloody. She wasn’t sure how long they had been fighting. After what felt like a lifetime the refs finally ripped the players apart. Vince immediately going towards the bench, he was yelling. The teams physician pulling him to the side and down the tunnel checking for any major injuries. They had moved so fast it didn’t register to y/n that they were halfway to the locker room already.

“No, I want y/n! Please!“ Vince shouted. Y/n snapping out of her frozen stance she followed the physician down the tunnel and into the locker room where she heard him shouting. As she turned the corner she immediately went for gloves and gauze. Throwing her hair up in a bun the physician was explaining what she needed to do, he had his hands full with this game, she was happy to help but still in shock that Vince was the one she was tending to. “No concussion, but we need the cut on his lip and cheek cleaned up and check his teeth for any other bleeding. He’ll return for the 3rd period. When you’re done with him send him where the rest of the team is. Oh and check his shoulder too, he took a nasty hit.”

“Yep. Got it” she said as she was washing her hands and putting gloves on to look at his face. As she stepped in front of Vince she grabbed his face gently making him look at her, still in shock over what she had witnessed. Yes she knew hockey was a violent sport. Yes she knew there were lots of injuries. But seeing Vince get hurt and in a fight was something she wasn’t prepared for. He was breathing hard, still pissed off about the call and the fight. But as soon as y/n was in front of him he felt better. She was explaining what she was doing, and asking permission to clean him up. He wasn’t listening, he knew she had to do that for her job. He leaned forward and just hugged her waist, leaning his head into her side, not saying anything. His breathing still heavy but starting to even out.

“Vince, I need to clean that cut,” y/n sighed.

“Y/n please. I need to calm down. Just—Please.” He was wound up, he tried to keep his voice level, not wanting her to hear him yell. So she let him, his sweat and probably blood going on her shirt. She just stood there and rubbed his back, well she tried to rub his back. It was hard with all the pads and gear on. After about 5 minutes of him just hugging her he finally pulled away. She didn’t say anything, she just looked at him, he nodded to her and she started looking at his injuries. He never looked away from her face. He notices the grey swirls in her eyes, she was holding back tears, the long black lashes, the freckles lightly dotting across her nose.

The cuts weren’t bad, and his shoulder was fine. Relief flooded her, when she was done she took her gloves off and threw everything away, “Vince, are you ok” she said looking at him. He was already looking at her.

“I’m ok” he breathed out “thank you baby girl.” He stood up and kissed her on the forehead, letting his lips stay there for a second longer than he should have, and walked to where the rest of his team was. She let out a huge sigh and sat down. After a minute she walked back to the bench for the last period.

The game ended in overtime with the Kraken winning. Y/n was charting and filling out paperwork when the team was finishing up post game interviews and showers. Vince walked around the corner to meet y/n by the team parking, and they walked together to his car. Once in the car Vince’s hand soon found its way to y/ns thigh, still needing some sort of comfort from her, she set her hand on top of his and intertwined their fingers. They said nothing the entire way home. Not even as he grabbed her hand and walked past her door straight to his apartment. It was rare that he was this quiet after games. They always fell so easy into conversations, but she didn’t dare speak first this time. She sat on the couch as he went into his room to change. After a few minutes he came out and handed her one of his old shirts, she walked to the bathroom to change. She grinned once she saw it was her favorite shirt of his, a very worn out hockey shirt from when he played for the Icedogs in his OHL days. It fell to her mid thigh, which was fine, she normally wore boy short underwear so she wasn’t super uncomfortable in just the shirt.

As she walked out of the bathroom she saw him in the kitchen. His sweatpants hanging low on his hips. She could see the tension in his back muscles still. She walked up to him and just hugged him from behind, even though he towered over her. He turned around and lifted her up to where she was sitting on the counter and his hands were on either side of her legs. They stared at each other for a minute. Y/n reached out to brush his curls off his forehead. He leaned into her touch and as she went to grab the side of his face he grabbed her hand a kissed the back of it.

“Y/n. I am sorry for what happened earlier.”

“Vince, I’ve seen you fight before it’s not a big deal, I just panicked for a second when I saw that you were the one hurt, and with everyone screaming that loud in there I just shut down.“

“ No, let me finish please.” He sighed, “it’s not that. I—fuck. He made a comment about you and it set me off. Y/n you give me a sense of calm that I’ve never had before. I’m pretty hotheaded and get worked up pretty easy out there. You’re the only thing that can calm me down, and that terrifies me. Every time I’m around you I just feel peace, and comfort. I’m not sure how to explain it, and I know it sounds dumb but I just need you to stay with me.”

“Vince I’m not leaving, you make me feel the same. I’m not sure when it happened for me either but everything is easy with you. I don’t want it to stop” Y/n said.

“Can we go to bed then? Just relax for the night?” Vince looked at her.

“Yes.”

[mzannthropy]

I always want to talk about how people say that Sam Claflin's characters often die on screen, but you can't do it without spoilers, so it's difficult. I don't think it's as bad as everyone makes it out to be, but it's also important to look at the story as a whole and what it's trying to say. And let's not forget that some of these were films based on real life where a real person actually died.

Honestly, I think it's bc of that dumb fucking bumblebee tights idiotic flick (stupid bitches watch it 234 times and see him choose death every time, instead of staying with the woman he is supposedly in love with (lol he isn't, Will doesn't love Louisa), so ofc they think he 'dies in films' bc they see him die, by choice, over and over again) and bc of Finnick. Now, that one is down to the author's bad decisions in the last book of the trilogy. The films could have let him live and correct this mistake, a change I bet so many would welcome, but they didn't. Although I can argue that Finnick indeed lives (It's very simple: Katniss, our narrator, is not telling the truth. Sorted.), that is still only a headcanon.

And then, him being alive at the end is not always better. His Mycroft in Enola Holmes was already a character assassination. (Mycroft is not like that, they turned him into a cartoon villain for the sake of an original character.) Billy Dunne was not helped by the show's writing. They killed a female character too early so that they could have their overrated rocknroll ship. Alistair in Riot Club is alive, and what of it? I can't imagine many people like him. Philip in My Cousin Rachel (a film that everyone ignores anyway) is alive but he is tormented. (Although there's an argument to be made that he can heal, bc the film had him marry Louise and have children with her. In the book, Philip foreshadows his going insane. But it's open.) Oswald Mosley didn't die until 1980 and you wish he did sooner.

So, you know, it's not just about dying or living.